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More Reminiscences of Captain Gronow

2012-02-26T04:01:00.001-05:00

To say that Captain Gronow is not politically correct by today's standards would be an understatement indeed. However, his comments no doubt reflect the prevailing view of his readers, however offensive we find his prejudices today.

Here are Gronow's observations on author Matthew Lewis (1775-1818), known as Monk after the name of his renowned Gothick novel.

Matthew "Monk" Lewis by Pickersgill, 1809

"MONK" LEWIS

One of the most agreeable men of the day was "Monk" Lewis. As the author of the Monk and the Tales of Wonder, he not only found his way into the best circles, but had gained a high reputation in the literary world. His poetic talent was undoubted, and he was intimately connected with Walter Scott in his ballad researches. His Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene was recited at the theatres, and wherever he went he found a welcome reception. His West Indian fortune and connections, and his seat in Parliament, gave him access to all the aristocratic circles; from which, however, he was banished upon the appearance of the fourth and last dialogue of the Pursuits of Literature. Had a thunderbolt fallen upon him, he could not have been more astonished than he was by the onslaught of Mr. Matthias, which led to his ostracism from fashionable society.

It is not for me to appreciate the value of this satirical poem, which created such an extraordinary sensation, not only in the fashionable, but in the political world; I, however, remember that whilst at Canning's, at the Bishop of London's, and at Gifford's, it was pronounced the most classical and spirited production that had ever issued from the press, it was held up at Lord Holland's, at the Marquis of Lansdowne's, and at Brookes's, as one of the most spiteful and ill-natured satires that had ever disgraced the literary world; and one which no talent or classic lore could ever redeem. Certain it is, that Matthias fell foul of poor "Monk" Lewis for his romance: obscenity and blasphemy were the charges laid at his door; he was acknowledged to be a man of genius and fancy, but this added only to his crime, to which was superadded that of being a very young man. The charges brought against him cooled his friends and heated his enemies; the young ladies were forbidden to speak to him, matrons even feared him, and from being one of the idols of the world, he became one of the objects of its disdain. Even his father was led to believe that his son had abandoned the paths of virtue, and was on the high road to ruin.

"Monk" Lewis, unable to stand against the outcry thus raised against him, determined to try the effects of absence, and took his departure for the island in which his property was; but unfortunately for those who dissented from the ferocious judgment that was passed upon him, and for those who had discrimination enough to know that after all there was nothing very objectionable in his romance, and felt assured that posterity would do him justice, this amiable and kind-hearted man died on his passage out; leaving a blank in one variety of literature which has never been filled up.

The denunciation was not followed by any other severe criticism; but editors have, in compliance with the insinuations of Matthias, omitted the passages which he pointed out as objectionable, so that the original text is seldom met with.

"Monk" Lewis had a black servant, affectionately attached to his master; but so ridiculously did this servant repeat his master's expressions, that he became the laughing-stock of all his master's friends: Brummell used often to raise a hearty laugh at Carlton House by repeating witticisms which he pretended to have heard from Lewis's servant. Some of these were very stale; yet they were considered so good as to be repeated at the clubs, greatly adding to the reputation of the Beau as a teller of good things. "On one occasion," said Brummell, "I called to inquire after a young lady who had sprained her ancle; Lewis, on being asked how she was, had said in the black's presence, 'The doctor has seen her, put her legs straight, and the poor chicken is doing well.' The servant, therefore, told me, with a mysterious and knowing look, 'Oh, sir, the doctor has been here; she has laid eggs, and she and the chickens are doing well.'"

Such extravagances in those days were received as the essence of wit, and to such stories did the public give a willing ear, repeating them with unwearying zest. Even Sheridan's wit partook of this character, making him the delight of the Prince, who ruled over the fashionable world, and whose approbation was sufficient to give currency to anything, however ludicrous and absurd.

More excerpts from Captain Gronow's Reminiscences

2012-02-24T04:00:00.002-05:00

Captain Gronow knew and admired the Austrian dancer Fanny Elssler (1810-1884). Here, from his Reminiscences, is his commentary on her:

FANNY ELSSLER

In 1822 I saw this beautiful person for the first time. She was originally one of the figurantes at the opera at Vienna, and was at this time about fourteen years of age, and of delicate and graceful proportions. Her hair was auburn, her eyes blue and large, and her face wore an expression of great tenderness. Some years after the Duke of Reichstadt, the son of the great Napoleon, was captivated with her beauty; in a word, he became her acknowledged admirer, while her marvellous acting and dancing drew around her all the great men of the German court. The year following she went to Naples, where a brother of the King fell desperately in love with her. Mademoiselle Elssler went soon afterwards to Paris, where her wit electrified all the fashionable world, and her dancing and acting in the Diable Boiteux made the fortune of the entrepreneur. In London her success was not so striking; but her cachucha will long be remembered, as one of the most exquisite exhibitions of female grace and power ever seen at her Majesty's Theatre, and in expressiveness, her pantomimic powers were unrivalled.

Fanny Elssler, 1836

The Wellington Connection: Waterloo Chairs

2012-02-22T01:12:00.013-05:00

Discovered during a routine valuation morning at the Chipping Norton branch of Tayler and Fletcher, Auctioneer and Valuer Stephen Sheppard could not believe his eyes when a photograph of The Duke of Wellington Chair appeared before him.

This fine regency period elm cross frame chair proudly proclaimed the name ‘Wellington’ in bold brass lettering to the top rail and carried a metal plate inscribed with the following inscription ‘This chair is formed from a tree which grew on the plains of Waterloo, and under which the Duke of Wellington stood during a great portion of the day on which he achieved the most glorious of his many Victories. The wood was given to me by J G Children Esq., of The B. Museum, who purchased the entire tree of its proprietor E.V.U.’

Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, KG, GCB, GCH, PC, FRS (1 May 1769 - 14 September 1852), was a British soldier and statesman, a native of Ireland, from the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy and one of the leading military and political figures of the nineteenth century. He is often referred to as the ‘Duke of Wellington,’ even after his death and there have been subsequent Dukes of Wellington.

Wellington rose to prominence as a general during the Peninsular campaign of the Napoleonic Wars, and was promoted to the rank of field marshal after leading the allied forces to victory against the French at the Battle of Victorian in 1813. Following Napoleon's exile in 1814, he served as the ambassador to France and was granted a dukedom. During the Hundred Days war in 1815, he commanded the allied army which, with a Prussian army under Blücher, defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. Wellesley's battle record is exemplary, ultimately participating in some 60 battles throughout his military career; he was also twice prime minister under the Tory party and remained Commander-in-Chief of the British Army until his death.

Following further research, it was discovered that The Gentleman’s Magazine of 1836 carried a contemporary review of Dykes Tour in Belgium - Kay’s Caffraria, which states “As to accuracy of fact - Mr Dyke mentions that the elm tree on the plain of Waterloo, under which Lord Wellington stood, “was purchased of a farmer, by a mercenary Goth from England, who hacked and twisted it into tooth picks and snuff boxes”. Now the fact is, that this said mercenary Goth was John George Children, Esq. of the British Museum, the learned and scientific translator of Berzelius, who did not cut it into tooth picks or snuff boxes, but formed it into a massive and handsome chair, in which he reposes, and which he does not sell.” Could this be the very chair mentioned in the magazine article of 1836? The Wellington Chair is estimated at £5,000-£8,000 and measures 97cm high x 61cm wide. Provenance: Purchased at a country house sale in Oxfordshire during the 1950’s thence by descent to the private vendor.

This fine piece of furniture is only one small part of a much larger auction sale that will include ceramics, glassware, metalware and bronzes, silverware, jewellery, clocks watches and barometers, collectables and bijouterie, paintings and pictures, mirrors and books, soft furnishings, textiles and hand knotted oriental rugs and carpets and viewing for this particular auction sale at the Pittville Pump Room, Cheltenham, is on Wednesday the 29th February from 8am-7pm and also on the morning of the sale from 7.30am until the start of sale at 10am. 01451 821666 www.taylerandfletcher.co.uk

Review of Eliza O'Neil at Covent Garden

2012-02-20T04:00:00.002-05:00

Fom La Belle Assemblee, May, 1815

Covent Garden

A new afterpiece, entitled The Fortune of War, was on Wednesday, May 17, performed at this Theatre; it is, without question, one of the most humourous farces of the day. It is the production of Mr Kenny, to whose fertile and whimsical genius the public are indebted for several pieces of acknowledged merit.

Covent Garden, c. 1815

The plot, which comprises a far greater number of ludicrous incidents and whimsical situations than we have recently seen in any effort of the same description is remarkable for its complexity.

Covent Garden, c. 1815

The afterpiece met with almost unprecedented success. It was loudly applauded throughout, and was announced for repetition, amidst the exclamations of the audience.

Miss O’Neil’s performance of the character of Euphrosia, in the Grecian Daughter, may be ranked amongst her most successful efforts. The play, in many senses, is heavy and declamatory, and wants that spirit and variety of action, without which tragedy never fails to be insipid. In some senses, however, the character of Euphrosia shines forth with great strength and dignity, and rescues this piece from that oblivion into which it would otherwise have fallen. Miss O’Neil was peculiarly successful in the scene with Evander; she threw a surprising pathos and an heroic affection into this scene which we never saw surpassed. In the scene in which she stabs Dionysius she was most eminently happy; she here rose to the highest energy and sublimity of tragic acting, and gave us a lively image of Mrs. Siddons in her best days. Young’s Evander was a chaste and powerful performance.

Today's Royal Opera House, Covent Garden

Our Love Affair with Country Life

2012-02-18T04:00:00.006-05:00

Intriguing concept? Well, have to admit we are talking about a magazine here. Country Life is a weekly slick publication in the UK to which a few privileged Americans (like Kristine) have subscriptions.

February 1, 2012 issue

The website is here. It give a wonderful summary of what is in the magazine -- but to be honest, holding a heavy copy in your hands and turning the glossy pages provides a particular thrill. You will find lots of information and pictures on the website, but give me a fresh issue, a cup of tea, and a hassock on which to rest my feet. Picture a perfectly contented person, dreaming of that perfect house...or ideal estate...or a London pied a terre. And every week, a new source for those dreams.

I assume that the lavish property ads give the magazine its primary income as well as its fantasy factor for those of us who spend hours pretending...would I prefer a townhouse...or an estate on the coast...or in the Yorkshire Dales? A recent issue concentrating on the Cotswolds absolutely gave me palpitations. I simply couldn't choose which one I would focus my dayreams on. I had to read it over and over.

The covers are wonderful, from the Queen to the noble hen above. Or the antique airplane (a Sopwith Camel, c. 1917, I think) below.

Not only are there wonderful property ads -- you will also find art and antiques, clothing and jewelry, all for the upper crust crowd. But, as I say, we can dream.

The magazine's editorial content is devoted to all the topics that might interest a country gentleman or gentlewoman. They are sometimes unabashedly involved in political issues, taking a rather traditional approach in defending the interests of the countryside in issues such as land use, development, and agricultural and coastline policies.

Cornish Coast, NT

Other articles describe notable gardens and give hints on growing various kinds of plants, both decorative and edible. Or raising dogs, especially sporting and working dogs. Hunting and fishing are often discussed, as is fox-hunting.

Every issue carries a picture of a lovely young lady, sometimes about to be married, other times in business. This has been a feature for many years. I remember reading an Alexander McCall Smith story about a young lady who had been the "girl of the week" and was embarrassed to admit it to her university friends.

Among my favorite features are the stories of stately homes, their preservation and their presentation to the public. It is not hard to imagine what a financial burden these piles are for the families who own them; that is why so many are English Heritage or National Trust.

After I finish my reveries (delusions?) about property, I usually flip to the back page to look at the wonderful cartoon in Tottering -by-Gently, the work of Annie Hurst. For more views, click here.

Among my other regular favoites are the columns of the Country Mouse and the Town Mouse, for random observations on life, always amusing and/or thought-provoking.

They even have recipes and restaurant reviews. Below, a suggestion for your next Tea Party.

carrot relish recipe

Whatever your favorite magazine feature, you will be entertained and amused by Country Life. We love to read the magazine in an aspirational mood -- for almost everything here is beyond our reach, however much we admire it. It's delicious for wishing!!

Kristine here, who just finished reading the issue above - the piece on coaching inns was marvelous. My subscription to Country Life is an annual gift that I make to myself and I look forward to its arrival each week. Like Victoria, my favourite bits of the magazine are the real estate ads at the front, some of which I've posted here on the blog. Stately home articles, historic tidbits, recipes, gardening, architectural stories and, of course, the husbandry of various animals all make for a weird yet satisfying combination. Where else would find such articles as "Why the English love their chimneys" and "The quintessential gourmet experience in London" in the same issue?

Victoria - I've a new batch of Country Life issues to give you when next we meet.

Wellington Ailing

2012-02-16T03:11:00.002-05:00

Apsley House

From The Greville Memoirs

February 15th (1840) (Saturday).—The Duke of Wellington had a serious seizure on Thursday (1) He dines early, and he rode out after dinner. The first symptom of something wrong was, that he could not make out the numbers on the doors of the houses he wanted to call at. He went to Lady Burghersh, and when he came away, the footman told his groom he was sure his Grace was not well, and advised him to be very attentive to him. Many people were struck with the odd way he sat on his horse. As he went home this got more apparent. When not far from Apsley House he dropped the reins out of his left hand, but took them up with the other, and when he got to his own door, he found he could not get off his horse. He felt his hand chilled. This has been the first symptom in each of his three attacks. He was helped off. Hume was sent for, came directly, and got him to bed. He had a succession of violent convulsions, was speechless, and his arm was affected. They thought he would have died in the night. The doctors came, physicked but did not bleed him, and yesterday morning he was better. He has continued to mend ever since, but it was a desperate blow, and offers a sad prospect. He will probably again rally, but these things must be always impending, and his mind must be affected, and will be thought to be so. Lyndhurst asked me last night what could be done. He said, 'The Duke ought now to retire from public life, and not expose himself to any appearance of an enfeebled understanding. Above all things to be deprecated is, that he should ever become a dotard like Marlborough, or a driveller like Swift.' 'How,' he said, 'would Aberdeen do?' He owned that nobody could replace the Duke or keep the party in order, and he said that the consequence would be it would break up, that 'there are many who would be glad of an opportunity toleave it.' This I told him I did not believe, but it certainly is impossible to calculate on the consequences of the Duke's death, or, what is nearly the same thing, his withdrawal from the lead of the party.

February 16th.—The Duke of Wellington, although his life was in such danger on Thursday night, that the chances were he would die, has thrown off his attack in a marvellous manner, and is now rapidly approaching to convalescence, all dangerous symptoms subsiding. The doctors, both Astley Cooper and Chambers, declare that they have never seen such an extraordinary power of rallying in anybody before in the whole course of their practice, and they expect that he will be quite as well again as he was before. It is remarkable that he has an accurate recollection of all the steps of his illness from the first perception of uneasy sensations to the moment of being seized with convulsions. He first felt a chillness in his hand, and he was surprised to find himself passing and repassing Lady Burghersh's house without knowing which it was. He called, however, and went up; and to her enquiry—for she was struck with his manner—he replied that he was quite well. Going home he dropped the rein, but caught it np with the other hand. When he arrived at his door, the servants saw he could not get off his horse, and helped him, and one of them ran off instantly for Hume. The Duke walked into his sitting-room, where Hume found him groaning, and standing by the chimney-piece. He got him to bed directly, and soon after the convulsions came on.

February 21st.—On Thursday morning I got a note from Arbuthnot, desiring I would call at Apsley House. When I got there, he told me that the Duke of Cambridge had sent for Lord Lyndhurst to consult him; that they were invited to meet the Queen on Friday at the Queen Dowager's, and he wanted to know what he was to do about giving precedence to Prince Albert. Lord Lyndhurst came to Apsley House and saw the Duke about it, and they agreed to report to the Duke of Cambridge their joint opinion that the Queen had an unquestionable right to give him any precedence she pleased, and that he had better concede it without making any difficulty.

Wellington's niece, Priscilla, Lady Burgeresh, afterwards Lady Westmorland,
holding her second son George Fane

February 25th.—Yesterday I saw the Duke of Wellington, whom I had not seen for above six months, except for a moment at the Council just after his first illness. He looked better than I expected—very thin, and his clothes hanging about him, but strong on his legs, and his head erect. The great alteration I remarked was in his voice, which was hollow, though loud, and his utterance, which, though not indistinct, was very slow. He is certainly now only a ruin. He is gone to receive the Judges at Strathfieldsaye, and he will go on again when he comes back to town, and hold on while he can. It is his desire to die with the harness on his back, and he cannot endure the notion of retirement and care of his life, which is only valuable to him while he can exert it in active pursuits. I doubt if he could live in retirement and inactivity—the life of a valetudinarian.

March 12th.—The Duke of Wellington has reappeared in the House of Lords, goes about, and works as usual, but everybody is shocked and grieved at his appearance.

London, August 19th.—In the conversation at which Aberdeen told Clarendon this, he dilated upon the marvellous influence of the Duke, and the manner in which he treated his followers, and the language they endured from him. Clarendon asked him whether, when the Duke retired, he had any hopes of being able to govern them as well; to which he replied that he had not the slightest idea of it; on the contrary, that it would be impossible, that nobody else could govern them, and when his influence was withdrawn, they would split into every variety of opinion according to their several biases and dispositions. He said he did not think the Duke of Wellington had ever rendered greater service in his whole life than he had done this session in moderating violence and keeping his own party together and in order, and that he could still do the most essential service in the same way, and much more than by active leading in Parliament.

(1.) The Duke was seventy when he had this seizure, supposed at the time to be fatal, at least to his faculties. But he lived for twelve years more and continued during the greater part of that time to render great public services and to lead the Tory party.

New London Hotels

2012-02-15T10:05:00.000-05:00

It's always fun to hear about new hotels in our favourite city and today we bring you word of three new properties. The Corinthia London (above) recently opened its doors in Whithall Place within the former home of the Hotel Metropole, which itself opened for the first time in 1885. Currently, the hotel assures guests that it will offer “uncompromising standards of luxury within a 21^st century grand hotel.” The hotel will have 294 lavishly decorated rooms, a restored Victorian ballroom, two restaurants, and the Bassoon Bar. There is also an expansive ESPA Life spa on property. Rooms average about $500.00 a night, but a drink in the bar and a fabulous massage will be much less expensive.

Located in Mayfair, The Dorchester Collection’s ninth hotel, 45 Park Lane, boasts interiors by New York designer Thierry Despont, as well as Wolfgang Puck’s American style steak restaurant, CUT. The hotel strives to cater to the well being of their guests and offers bicycles, yoga mats, a fitness center and a Bath Menu, where guests can select from a range of aromatherapy oils, candles and herbal teas. 45 Park Lane will also house a collection of constantly evolving contemporary art and an in-house cinema.

Looking forward to Fall of 2012, The Wellesley townhouse hotel in Knightsbridge (above) is laying claim to being London’s first ‘6-star’ property. Located just off Hyde Park next to the Lanesborough, the 36-bedroom townhouse hotel is currently undergoing a £36 million pound renovation. The six-floor hotel will include London's largest hotel suite with four bedrooms, a private lift, views over Hyde Park and The Cigar Terraces, which will boast the UK's largest bespoke humidor. The MD of developer Arab Investments, Khalid Affara says: “This will be to a better standard than all the 5 star hotels in London. It will be like the first-class compartment of a plane.”

Happy Valentine's Day

2012-02-14T04:00:00.006-05:00

From Kristine and Victoria, all our love accompanied by virtual hugs and kisses to all our faithful readers. Be our Valentines...all year long.

Click here for last minute London Valentine's Day shopping ideas.

Click here for "no expense spared" gifts from the likes of Lulu Guiness and Birkin.

Looking for a unique Valentine's Day experience? Check out offers from the London Eye, complete with champers and chocs.

More romantic and/or historic London experiences can be found here.

And lastly, check out London's most expensive Valentine's Day package here, courtesy of the Athenaeum Hotel.

S.W.A.K.

Advertisements from La Belle Assemblee, 1816

2012-02-12T04:00:00.002-05:00

We generally think of La Belle Assemblee, the regency-era magazine, in regard to its fashion plates. It also carred many articles about leading personalities, world events and history, interesting occurances, and as below, some fascinating advertisements in a special section. Here are some excerpts (pictures added by this blogger);

BELL’S MONTHLY COMPENDIUM OF ADVERTISEMENTS FOR DECEMBER, 1816

THE PANTHEON FAMILY LINEN WARE HOUSE

Pantheon, London, 1816

T. Craig begs to solicit the Nobility and Families to inspect his STOCK OF LINEN DRAPERY WHICH (without using the words “Bankrupt Stock,” – Bought for Cash !! –“ “Selling off” – “Irish Linen Company,” etc. words which are too well know to deserve any thing but contempt) will be sold at the following prices, and let the world judge for themselves:--

Irish Linen very stout …………………………………………. 1 0

Ditto Superfine ………………………………………………. 2 6

One hundred elegant Cobourg Striped Dresses, each …… 5 6

Union Cambrics (ten Handkerchiefs each piece)……………… 9 6

India Nankeens, seven yards long (the Company’s best), per piece 7 6

Merino Twilled Stuffs …………………………………………. 1 6

Observe!! It is sometimes necessary for Ladies to bring the Advertisement with them; it will be a guide for themselves, and will at all times shew whether the Advertisement is genuine or fictitious.

78, Oxford street, near the Pantheon

THE VERDIGONIAN ODORIFEROUS AND ABSTERSIVE TOOTH PASTE

Price 2s. 9d. and 7s. per pot,

Communicates the most refined and delicate fragrance to the breath, renders the teeth beautifully white, fastens those which are loose, and preserves them from decay to the latest period of life. It is peculiarly adapted to use of Children; and employed by the fair sex in particular, it will fully accomplish the description of the poet,--

“Her breath was sweeter than the morning gale,
“Stoln from the rose of violet’s dewy leaves,
“Her ivory teeth appeared in even rows,
“Thro’ lips of living coral.”

Tooth brushes for using the Tooth Paste, 4s. 6d. per Set.

(Verdigonian: after Monsieur Verdigon whose “Celebrated Medicines are approved and recommended by all the Medical Halls in Europe”; Odoriferous: bears or diffuses scent; Abstersive: having the quality of cleansing or purging)

TREBLE DISTILLED LAVENDER WATER

Under the August Patronage of his Royal Highness the Prince Regent; their Royal Highnesses the Princesses Augusta, Elizabeth, Sophia, and Mary; her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess of Russia; Princes of Wirtemberg; their Graces the Duchesses of Devonshire and Wellington; his Grace the Duke of Marlborough; the Right Hon. the Countesses of Waldegrave, Darnley, and Liverpool; the Right Hon. Viscountess Powerscourt; Lady E. Bentinck; the Baroness de Montesquieu; the Hon. Mrs. Hope; The Hon. Mrs. Stapleton; Ladies Hatton, Bourne and Ball; and by the Nobility and Gentry in general.

Manufactured by HENRY CHRISTIAN, Chemist, &c., Canterbury, the only and sole inventor (and with whom no other person is connected), of whom it may be had wholesale, retail, and for exportation; also in London of Mr. Johnston, 15, Mr. Berry, 17, Greek-street, Soho; Overton , 51, and Gattie and Pierce, 57, New Bond-street; Newbery and Sons, 45, and Prosser and Co., 20, St. Paul’s Churchyard, Barclay and Sons, 95, Fleet-market; Leuchars, Haymarket; Wass, 12, Cheapside; and of all the respectable Perfumers, Stationers, &c., in Great Britain and Ireland.

TO THE FEMALE SEX

The weak corporeal frame of the female sex, and the extreme sensibility of their minds, expose them to a variety of diseases, which require the assistance of an experienced practitioner; while, on the other hand, the modest and engaging delicacy of the British Ladies renders them, in general, averse to exposing their more private ailments to the cognizance of the usual medial attendant on their families.

To avoid this frequently unpleasant circumstance, the Ladies are assured that Dr. FISHER may be consulted by them, with the utmost confidence in his integrity, and in his long experience in female complaints of every kind, whether arising from natural weakness of constitution, from brooding over the unhappiness of life, from the unfortunate results of error of fashionable gaiety, or from any accidental cause; and in other cases, where, although health is enjoyed, yet the parties feel a certain addition wanting to their happiness, this defect may almost always be removed by persevering in his mode of treatment.

Dr. FISHER is at home from ten till two, and from seven till nine every day (Sundays excepted), but in many cases a letter detailing the symptoms, and inclosing a remittance for advice and medicine, will render personal communication unnecessary, and the remedies will be forward by any conveyance that is pointed out, so that the utmost degree of secrecy may be preserved.

N. 27, Cross-street, Hatton-Garden

END OF ADVERTISEMENTS

I am not so sure I want to share my secrets with Dr. Fisher -- how about you????

Regency Reflections: Ashton on 1812, Part II

2012-02-10T04:00:00.004-05:00

John Ashton, in Social England Under the Regency, told of the convoluted eforts of the Prince Regent to reward his assistant, Colonel McMahon, and how various others in government circles tried to thwart the PR's wishes. From Chapter 6, 1812:

But, be his (McMahon's) origin whatever it might have been, he was a tool well fitted for the use of his august master, who, it must be owned, endeavoured to repay him; but, also, at the public expense. In 1811 General Fox died, and at his death, the office of Paymaster of the Widows' Pensions became vacant. It was a perfect sinecure, the duties being done by others, and the salary attached to the office was over £2,000 per annum. The Commissioners of 1783, and of 1808, both reported and recommended the abolition of the Paymaster and Deputy-Paymaster of Widows' Pensions, as being unnecessary, the one having very little to do, the other, nothing at all. The office of Paymaster had, in particular, been recommended to be done away with, on the demise of General Fox; but it was given to Colonel McMahon.

On January 9, 1812, on a Motion for Supply, Mr. Creevey spoke decidedly against this appointment, and moved as an Amendment, 'That the House would, to-morrow se'nnight resolve itself into a Committee of Supply, in order to give an opportunity, in the interim, for the consideration which he had suggested,' namely, that they would take into their earliest consideration, the various offices of emolument recently granted by the Crown to several of their members. This amendment was lost.

Thomas Creevey (1768-1838), MP

On the 22nd of February, the question of the Army Estimates being on, Mr. Bankes moved as an Amendment, 'That the amount of the sum expected to be paid to the Paymaster of Widows' Pensions, being 12d. in the pound on the said Pensions (£2,790 1s) be deducted from the said sum.' This amendment was lost by a majority of sixteen.

But on the next night, Mr. Bankes brought the matter up again, and moved the virtual abolition of the office by omitting the sum necessary to pay it--and this was carried by a majority of three.

There was consternation among the Regent's party at the temerity of the House in thus thwarting the Royal wishes, and, of course, the recalcitrated Commons must be taught a lesson, so McMahon was appointed Keeper of the Privy Purse, and Private Secretary to the Prince Regent; and in the caricature of 'The Privy Purse and Political Beggars' we find McMahon installed in his new position. Sheridan says, 'Dear, good worthy Countryman, thou Pine Apple of Erin! consider I was burnt out,* not a penny in my purse, my credit very low--do--dear Mac, for the love of St. Patrick, give me a handful.' Buckingham: 'I have not above a Hundred Thousand a year, these hard times. Pray remember the Poor!' Temple: 'With my wife's fortune and my own I have not above Forty Thousand a year. Pray remember the Poor! Grenville: 'I have not above Fifty Thousand a year, a slender pittance. Pray remember the Poor!' Mac Mahon replies: 'Paws Off! no Blarney will do with me! I'm up to all your Gammon! and so is my dear Master. I'm cosy at last, in spite of all your speeches and paragraphs, and you may all go to the Devil, your Master!!!'

And doubtless, he thought he was cosy, but the Commons would not stand the job, and on the 23rd of March, his appointment was brought before Parliament, and the Hon. J.W. Ward asked whether it was a fact, and, if so, what salary was he to have? Mr. Perceval, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, admitted the appointment, and pointed out that Colonel Taylor had occupied the same position towards the King for many years, and the same salary that was given to that gentleman had been continued to Colonel McMahon. Mr. Whitbread pointed out that Colonel Taylor's appointment was owing to the infirmities of the King, and that previously there had been no such post.

McMahon, by Lawrence, Vancouver Art Gallery

On the 14th of April, Mr. C.W. Wynn, in the House of Commons, moved for the Production of the Appointment of Colonel McMahon to the new Office of Private Secretary to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent. A very long discussion took place, and on a division, the motion was negatived by a majority of seventy-six. But the Ministry felt that the House was decidedly against them, and the appointment was not persisted in--McMahon afterwards became a pensioner on the Privy Purse.

Note from Victoria: Sir John McMahon (c.1754-1817), formerly a colonel in the foot guards, was a Privy Counselor from 1812 to his death in 1817. He was made a baronet by the Prince Regent. Several of his bothers also occupied important government positions in England and Ireland. In Georgette Heyer's 1935 novel, Regency Buck, he is a minor character in Brighton and facilitates Judith's first invitation to the Royal Pavilion.

I guess this is a sneaky way to insert one of my favorite authors, Georgette Heyer. Regency Buck was the first of her many Regency-set novels; her research was brilliant and her accuracy meticulous, setting a high standard for the rest of us authors.

Regency Reflections: Ashton on 1812, Part I

2012-02-08T04:00:00.006-05:00

The following is an excerpt from John Ashton's Social England Under the Regency, which can be found in digital formats at numerous sites.

Regency a la Mode, British Museum

from Chapter 6, 1812:

Judging by the barometer of public opinion, the satirical prints, the topic of conversation in the commencement of this year, was the Prince Regent. Occupying the exalted position that he did, he naturally was the observed of all, and his foibles and peccadilloes were made the laughing stock or were censured of all. And the Caricaturists did not spare him. Take this illustration as a sample; it is called '1812, or Regency a la Mode,' where we see our 'fat friend,' as Brummell called him, having his stays laced, and, during that operation, occupying himself by rouging his cheeks.

He would allow very little of his doings to be known by the public, and the movements of Royalty, as we know it in the Court Circular, were recorded in the baldest manner possible, except on one occasion, when the Regent sprained his ancle, and there was a very long and elaborate report thereon.

Prince Regent, by Sir Thomas Lawrence

Morning Chronicle, Saturday, November 16, 1811:--'The Prince Regent.--His Royal Highness, we are concerned to state, was not well enough to come to town yesterday. At the Party given by the Duchess of York at Oatlands, on Wednesday evening, the Duchess made arrangements for a Ball. The Prince Regent agreed to lead off the dance with his daughter, the Princess Charlotte, for his partner. Whilst his Royal Highness was leading the Princess briskly along, his right foot came in contact with the leg of a chair or sofa, which gave his leg a twist, and sprained his ancle. His Royal Highness took but little notice of it that night, but in the morning he found it worse than he expected, etc., etc.

Whatever was the matter with him, he did not leave Oatlands till the 9th of December, or nearly a month after the Ball. Nobody believed in the royal sprain, but the story that did gain credence, and was made the most of by the Caricaturist and Satirist, was that the Regent, at that Ball, grossly insulted Lady Yarmouth, for which he was most heartily, and soundly, thrashed by her husband, Lord Yarmouth, and hence the royal indisposition. Walcot, as 'Peter Pindar, Esqre,' wrote one of his most scathing odes, and that is saying something, entitled, 'The R______l Sprain, or A Kick from Yar_____h to WA_______s, being particulars of an expedition to Oat______nds, and the Sprained Ancle.'

A Kick from Yarmouth to Wales

There were several Caricatures, all with the same tendency. One was 'A Kick from Yarmouth to Wales, December, 1811, which shows Lord Yarmouth holding the Regent by his coat collar and vigorously kicking him behind, the Regent yelling and trying to get away, Lady Yarmouth sitting on a sofa looking on. There is attached to this, a poetical effusion of fourteen verses, to be sung to the tune of 'The Love-sick Frog.' The first verse runs thus:

"A Prince he would a raking go.

Heigh ho! said Rowly.

Whether his people would have him or no;

With a rowly-powly, gammon and spinach,

Heigh Ho! said Anthony Rowly."

Then there was 'The Royal Milling Match," published December 1811, in which depicted Lord Yarmouth, who, by a paper sticking out of his coat pocket, was 'Late a pupil of the Champion of England,' 'fibbing merrily' on the royal countenance; at the same time exclaiming, 'There is plenty of fair game, but no poaching on my Mannor. My action is quick, and put in strait forward--so!' The Regent calls out, 'Help, help, I have made a false step, and sprained my Ancle.' A servant coming in says to Lord Yarmouth 'Lord, Sir, don't be so harsh, you'll sprain the gentleman's ancle. By goles, this is what they call Milling indeed!' Lady Yarmouth views the scene from behind a screen.

The most amusing one I have seen, is given in the accompanying illustration (below), which is by Geo.Cruikshank, published January, 1812. It is called 'Princely Agility: or the Sprained Ancle.' The doctor at the foot of the bed (probably meant for Halford) is fomenting the foot, which seems its normal size, and says to the attendant, 'Take the waistcoat away, or we shall make the town talk.' The Princess Charlotte is examining the foot, and exclaims,'Bless me, how it swelled!' Lady Jersey, who is administering to the invalid prince, is inattentive to her duties; whilse the Regent with 'two lovely black eyes,' is calling to Colonel McMahon, 'Oh! my Ancle, Oh!--bring me my Wig--Oh! my Ancle! Take care of my Whiskers, Mac! Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, o-o-o-oh-o!' Sir John Douglas is feeling his pulse saying, 'Out a way, Mon, you are always exposing yourself.' John Bull is coming in at the door, but is pushed back by Adams with 'Indeed, Bull, 'tis only a sprained ancle.' But John Bull says, 'John Bull is not to be fobbed off so easily, Master Lawyer.'

George Cruikshank was not very particular as to his likenesses, as we may see by his ideal Colonel McMahon, who was a servant worthy of his master, to whom he was most useful.

Walcott 'Pindarised' him in an Ode, 'Mac the First,' in which he makes him say:

'Once a boy, in ragged dress,

Who would little Mac caress?

When in the streets, starv'd and sad,

I was a common errand lad.'

More about the Prince Regent and Col. McMahon, soon at this site.

The Wellington Connection: The Koh-i-noor Diamond

2012-02-06T03:20:00.004-05:00

The Koh-I-Noor diamond on view at the Great Exhibition

From Harper's Magazine, Volume 32

The great diamonds of the world are as famous as the great mountains or rivers. Who has not read of the Koh-i-noor, the "Mountain of Light," which has been stolen from sovereign by sovereign for near a thousand years, its last proprietor—by title, at least, semi-felonious—being her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria? Every body knows that the Koh-inoor first belonged to the god Krischnu. From him—poor, helpless god!—it was stolen by a wild Delhi chief, who wore it in his hat; from him by Ala-ed-Din ; from him, in 1526,-by Baber of the Moguls. To Aurnnzebe it occurred that the Koh-i-noor, like other diamonds, would be the better for some polishing and cutting. Unhappily, the diamond-cutter who received it in charge was unskillful. From 793 carats the blockhead cut it down to 186. Aurunzebe was for cutting him down on the same scale, beginning with his head; and really, in the interest of art, one can not but deplore the fellow's escape. It should have weighed at least 400 carats, and been worth $500,000,000. As it is, it would not fetch more than the value of a couple of stout cities. A mere pebble. Nadir Shah stole it when his turn came; from his descendants it was wrenched by Achmet Shah; from his son it was extorted by Runjeet Singh ; and from his people it was " conveyed" by British troops, who loyally presented it to their Queen, who showed it to her people at the Great Exhibition of 1851. Her Majesty was not satisfied with its brilliancy, and had it cut again, this time by the great diamond-cutter, Costar, of Amsterdam, who reduced it to 106 carats.

The cutting marked an epoch. Costar and his men came over from Amsterdam for the purpose, and were installed at the Queen's jeweler's work-shop. A steam-engine was erected to do the work, and it was the Duke of Wellington himself who set the machinery in motion, and made the first cut. All England, through representatives in the press, was a breathless spectator of the thrilling scene. A single slip of the cutter's hand might have done a mischief not to be measured save by hundreds of thousands of pounds. A moment's inattention might have cost a million. Happily the operators' nerves were steady, and their thoughts concentrated on their work, so that no accident occurred. Long and loud were the controversies, to which the cutting gave rise—one party claiming that these Dutch Jews were ruining the finest jewel in England, others maintaining that without a new cutting the Koh-i-noor was comparatively valueless.

Whichever was right, Costar carried his point, and connoisseurs and the trade are now generally agreed that the cutting was beneficial. It is now a perfect brilliant, with duly proportioned table, facets, and culet. Its previous shape . . . was irregular—neither rose nor brilliant.

The stone was soon after mounted in a brooch which Queen Victoria often wore and, after her death, it was set in Queen Alexandra's crown. It was afterwards used in the crown of Queen Mary and, today, appears in the crown of Queen Elizabeth II, as seen above.

Excerpts from the Reminiscences of Captain Gronow

2012-02-04T04:05:00.003-05:00

Rees Howell Gronow (1794 - 1865) is remembered best for his Reminiscences, which he wrote down in his old age. Some observers suspect his memories were not always accurate, but he presents a clear picture of the Regency era and subsequent events, particularly in regard to the characters he wrote about with frankness and humor.

He put out four volumes of his recollections from 1862-1866. His collected works appeared in 1888 and have been re-edited and re-published many times. In his youth, he was educated at Eton, where he was friendly with the poet Shelley. In 1812, Gronow was commissioned an Ensign in the Foot guards, eventually rising to be a Captain in the Welsh Grenadier Guards. He served in the Peninsular War and in 1815 at the Battle of Waterloo.

Romeo Coates

Always well dressed, Gronow moved in the highest circles of London society and wrote many accounts of the ladies and gentlemen whose exploits we still care about today. One of these men was Romeo Coates, a true eccentric. Robert Coates (1772-1848), often known as Romeo, was born in the West Indies and came to England with a substantial fortune...but let Gronow tell his story:

This singular man, more than forty years ago, occupied a large portion of public attention; his eccentricities were the theme of general wonder, and great was the curiosity to catch a glance at as strange a being as any that ever appeared in English society. This extraordinary individual was a native of one of the West India Islands, and was represented as a man of extraordinary wealth; to which, however, he had no claim.

About the year 1808 there arrived at the York Hotel, at Bath, a person about the age of fifty, somewhat gentlemanlike, but so different from the usual men of the day that considerable attention was directed to him. He was of a good figure; but his face was sallow, seamed with wrinkles, and more expressive of cunning than of any other quality. His dress was remarkable: in the day-time he was covered at all seasons with enormous quantities of fur; but the evening costume in which he went to the balls made a great impression, from its gaudy appearance; for his buttons as well as his knee-buckles were of diamonds. There was of course great curiosity to know who this stranger was; and this

curiosity was heightened by an announcement that he proposed to appear at the theatre in the character of Romeo. There was something so unlike the impassioned lover in his appearance--so much that indicated a man with few intellectual gifts--that everybody was prepared for a failure. No one, however, anticipated the reality.

On the night fixed for his appearance the house was crowded to suffocation. The playbills had given out that "an amateur of fashion" would for that night only perform in the character of Romeo; besides, it was generally whispered that the rehearsals gave indication of comedy rather than tragedy, and that his readings were of a perfectly novel character.

The very first appearance of Romeo convulsed the house with laughter. Benvolio prepares the audience for the stealthy visit of the lover to the object of his admiration; and fully did the amateur give the expression to one sense of the words uttered, for he was indeed the true representative of a thief stealing onwards in the night, "with Tarquin's ravishing strides," and disguising his face as if he were thoroughly ashamed of it. The darkness of the scene did not, however, show his real character so much as the masquerade, when he came forward with hideous grin, and made what he considered his bow,--which consisted in thrusting his head forward and bobbing it up and down several times, his body remaining perfectly upright and stiff, like a toy mandarin with moveable head.

His dress was outre in the extreme: whether Spanish, Italian, or English, no one could say; it was like nothing ever worn. In a cloak of sky-blue silk, profusely spangled, red pantaloons, a vest of white muslin, surmounted by an enormously thick cravat, and a wig a la Charles the Second, capped by an opera hat, he presented one of the most grotesque spectacles ever witnessed upon the stage. The whole of his garments were evidently too tight for him; and his movements appeared so incongruous, that every time he raised his arm, or moved a limb, it was impossible to refrain from laughter: but what chiefly convulsed the audience was the bursting of a seam in an inexpressible part of his dress, and the sudden extrusion through the red rent of a quantity of white linen sufficient to make a Bourbon flag, which was visible whenever he turned round. This was at first supposed to be a wilful offence against common decency, and some disapprobation was evinced; but the utter unconsciousness of the odd creature was soon apparent, and then urestrained mirth reigned throughout the boxes, pit, and gallery. The total want of flexibility of limb, the awkwardness of his gait, and the idiotic manner in which he stood still, all produced a most ludicrous effect; but when his guttural voice was heard, and his total misapprehension of every passage in the play, especially the vulgarity of his address to Juliet, were perceived, everyone was satisfied that Shakspeare's Romeo was burlesqued on that occasion.

The balcony scene was interrupted by shrieks of laughter, for in the midst of one of Juliet's impassioned exclamations, Romeo quietly took out his snuff-box and applied a pinch to his nose; on this a wag in the gallery bawled out, "I say, Romeo, give us a pinch," when the impassioned lover, in the most affected manner, walked to the side boxes and offered the contents of his box first to the gentlemen, and then, with great gallantry, to the ladies. This new interpretation of Shakspeare was hailed with loud bravos, which the actor acknowledged with his usual grin and nod. Romeo then returned to the balcony, and was seen to extend his arms; but all passed in dumb show, so incessant were the shouts of laughter. All that went on upon the stage was for a time quite inaudible, but previous to the soliloquy "I do remember an apothecary," there was for a moment a dead silence; for in rushed the hero with a precipitate step until he reached the stage lamps, when he commenced his speech in the lowest possible whisper, as if he had something to communicate to the pit that ought not to be generally known; and this tone was kept up throughout the whole of the soliloquy, so that not a sound could be heard.

The amateur actor showed many indications of aberration of mind, and seemed rather the object of pity than of amusement; he, however, appeared delighted with himself, and also with his audience, for at the conclusion he walked first to the left of the stage and bobbed his head in his usual grotesque manner at the side boxes; then to the right, performing the same feat; after which, going to the centre of the stage with the usual bob, and placing his hand upon his left breast, he exclaimed, "Haven't I done it well?" To this inquiry the house, convulsed as it was with shouts of laughter, responded in such a way as delighted the heart of Kean on one great occasion, when he said, "The pit rose at me." The whole audience started up as if with one accord, giving a yell of derision, whilst pocket-handkerchiefs waved from all parts of the theatre.

The dying scene was irresistibly comic, and I question if Liston, Munden, or Joey Knight, was ever greeted with such merriment; for Romeo dragged the unfortunate Juliet from the tomb, much in the same manner as a washerwoman thrusts into her cart the bag of foul linen. But how shall I describe his death? Out came a dirty silk handkerchief from his pocket, with which he carefully swept the ground; then his opera hat was carefully placed for a pillow, and down he laid himself. After various tossings about he seemed reconciled to the position; but the house vociferously bawled out, "Die again, Romeo!" and, obedient to the command, he rose up, and went through the ceremony again. Scarcely had he lain quietly down, when the call was again heard, and the well-pleased amateur was evidently prepared to enact a third death; but Juliet now rose up from her tomb, and gracefully put an end to this ludicrous scene by advancing to the front of the stage and aptly applying a quotation from Shakspeare:

"Dying is such sweet sorrow,
That he will die again until to-morrow."

Thus ended an extravaganza such as has seldom been witnessed; for although Coates repeated the play at the Haymarket, amidst shouts of laughter from the playgoers, there never was so ludicrous a performance as that which took place at Bath on the first night of his appearance. Eventually he was driven from the stage with much contumely, in consequence of its having been discovered that, under pretence of acting for a charitable purpose, he had obtained a sum of money for his performances. His love of notoriety led him to have a most singular shell-shaped carriage built, in which, drawn by two fine white horses, he was wont to parade in the park; the harness, and every available part of the vehicle (which was really handsome) were blazoned over with his heraldic device--a cock crowing, and his appearance was heralded by the gamins of London shrieking out "cock-a-doodle-doo." Coates eventually quitted London and settled at Boulogne, where a fair lady was induced to become the partner of his existence, notwithstanding the ridicule of the whole world.

End of Gronow on Romeo Coates; More Gronow excerpts coming soon...

Butlers, Paragons of Perfection

2012-02-02T04:00:00.009-05:00

I think the perfect addition to my life would be a butler. Someone to anticipate my every need, to meet me at the door with a reviving tonic, to serve (and prepare) my meals, organize my life and give me a big dose of CLASS.

Apparently I am not alone, for butlering as a profession seems to be more and more popular. I ran across an interesting article from Bloomberg (here) telling about how many butlers, preferably British-trained, will be needed for the growing numbers of billionaires in the world.

Jim Carter as Mr. Carson, Downton Abbey's Butler

At the present moment, considering butlers, probably most people think of Carson, the butler in Downton Abbey. I agree that he is generally a most able fellow, and usually holds his profession to a high standard. However, I cannot think he is quite as good as his renowned predecessor in English tv series, the commendable Mr. Hudson of Upstairs, Downstairs. I do not recall that Hudson ever passed out while serving dinner to guests, however efficiently the staff recovered and carried on.

Gordon Jackson as Mr. Hudson

I also think that being a Scot adds immensely to a butler's character. The team of Mr. Hudson and Mrs. Bridges has a much warmer spot in my heart than Carson and Mrs. Patmore or Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. H. should definitely keep a closer watch on O'Brien, and Carson should have long ago disciplined Thomas, the cheeky footman.

l-r, Jim Carter, Phyllis Logan as Mrs. Hughes, Siobhan Finneran as O’Brien

Call me old fashioned, but I think my two favorite butlers in all of literature and from television are Bunter and Jeeves. Does anyone disagree with me? They are two very different men, but perhaps equally worthy.

Lord Peter Wimsey and Bunter

Perhaps Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957) was not dreaming of perfection when she created Mervyn Bunter as Lord Peter Wimsey's man, but she achieved it. According to some sources, she modeled her gentleman's gentleman on P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves. Unlike Bertie Wooster, however, Lord Peter is mostly a serious solver of crimes. Bunter is an able asistant whether it comes to clues, sartorial issues, or any kind of general information.

P.G. Wodehouse (Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, 1881-1975) wrote many plays and novels, and is probably best known for his stories about Bertie Wooster, an eccentric young aristocrat often rescued by his man, and Jeeves, who performs every task he undertakes with faultless skill one can only pine for. Oh, to have him for just a few hours. Every week. 52 a year.

Back to the idea of training for professional careers as butlers, personal assistants, and so forth. At the time of the Royal Wedding last April, the Telegraph interviewed a former footman to the Queen about some of the intricacies of arranging such a great event. The article (here) tells about Christopher Ely, who provides courses to train candidates for service positions. He runs a school in New York City now, after his career in England.

And if you google butler training, you will find many more such programs. So I know where I can hire that butler, if I just could win the lottery -- but wouldn't that mean I had to buy a ticket? Odds of winning are rotten, sad to say. If I just had Jeeves to choose the power ball number...

Calke Abbey - The Unstately Home

2012-02-02T03:26:00.001-05:00

The National Trust presents Calke Abbey as an illustration of the English country house in decline. Displays show how house was left when abandoned in the 1920's and the NT refers to the property as an "unstately home."

From Wikipedia: "Set in the midst of a landscape park, the National Trust presented Calke Abbey as an illustration of the English country house in decline. A massive amount of remedial work but no restoration has been done and interiors are almost as they were found in 1985 so the decay of the building and its interiors has been halted but not reversed. Before the National Trust work of the late 1980s everything had remained untouched since the 1880s. The Trust manages the surrounding landscape park with an eye to nature conservation. It contains such features as a walled garden, with a flower garden and a former physic garden, now managed as a kitchen garden. Some years after Calke was handed over to the National Trust to settle death duties, an heir was discovered: Andrew Johnson, a distant cousin of the Harpur family. Johnson was a wealthy resident of Vermont and the owner of important stands of timber and of a lumber business, though the popular press in Britain referred to him as a `lumberjack.' Johnson was given the use of an apartment in the Abbey, which he and his family have used on occasional visits."

And from The History of the County of Derby, Part 2 (1829) by Stephen Glover: "In this house, although it has never yet been put up, either for use or ornament, is, perhaps, one of the most splendid state beds in the kingdom, presented, on the occasion of her marriage,-by " Caroline," queen of George the Second, to Lady Caroline Manners (afterwards Harpur) as one of her bridemaids. This now beautiful seat was, in the memory of persons n6w living, one of the plainest and least ornamental, it is said, almost desolate and ugly, places in the county. The present improvements were all planned and executed by the late Sir Henry Crewe, bart. who devoted a life of retirement to this purpose, affording thereby, for many years, ample employment to the workmen and labourers of the surrounding neighbourhood. The house being ill supplied with water, Sir Henry Crewe, at a great expense, brought it from an excellent spring beyond Ticknall, about a mile and a half, to a covered reservoir in the park, from whence the stables, house, gardens, and dairy, are now fully and amply supplied. The style of architecture is Ionic, highly enriched, with fluted pilasters between the windows, and an elegant balustrade round the whole building, within which is a flat roof covered with lead. The stables are excellent, and stand on an elevated site to the north of the house."

The Potting Shed at Calke Abbey from natures-desktop.com

All of this sounds vastly intriguing and Victoria and I are loathe to admit that neither of us has yet visited Calke Abbey. Have you? If so, please share your visit with us. And in the meantime, Victoria and I have yet another stop to put on a future itinerary.

The Continuing Story of "Mad Jack" Mytton

2012-01-31T02:41:00.000-05:00

From Famous Racing Men by Willmott-Dixon Thormanby (1882):

The incidents of Mytton's romantic and eventful life have been narrated with tolerable fidelity but questionable taste by his friend, C. J. Apperley (the famous "Nimrod") . . . . John Mytton was born on the 30th of September, 1796, at the family seat of Halston, in Shropshire, three miles from Oswestry, and was left fatherless at two years of age. His mother spoiled him, and by the time he was ten years of age the young heir was what is called a regular pickle. He was expelled from Westminster and Harrow in succession. At the former school he spent £800 a-year, exactly double his allowance, and wrote, when he was only fourteen years of age, to Lord Eldon, the then Lord Chancellor, requesting an increase of income, as he was going to be married. The Lord Chancellor replied—" Sir, if you cannot live on your income you may starve, and if you marry I will commit you to prison." At the age of nineteen he entered, as a cornet, the 7th Hussars, and joined that regiment in France with the army of occupation. But as there was no more fighting, Cornet Mytton was at leisure to enter into all kinds of youthful mischief. One of his feats was borrowing £3,000 of a banker at St. Omer one day and losing half of it at an E. 0. table in Calais the next.

John Scott, 1st Lord Eldon

He also lost 16,000 napoleons to a certain captain at billiards, which sum he was unable to pay at the moment. But this score was wiped off in a more agreeable manner. The colonel of Mytton's regiment, the then Earl of Uxbridge, forbade his paying the money, and the captain in question was afterwards implicated in a transaction which went far to prove that Lord Uxbridge was morally right. When Mytton came of age he found himself possessed of an estate of about £10,000 a-year and £60,000 of accumulated cash, but a large portion of the latter had to go towards liquidating his already numerous debts. Quitting the army, he married, at the age of twenty-three, Harriet, the eldest daughter of the then lately deceased Sir Tyrrwhitt Jones, Bart., of Stanley Hall, Shropshire. The bridegroom was attended by the Earl of Uxbridge and the Earl of Denbigh, K.G., and the wedding was one of the events of the season. The issue of their union was only one daughter. Mrs. Mytton died a few years after her marriage, and there can be no doubt that her death was accelerated, if not actually caused, by her husband's insane conduct and cruel neglect.

Henry Paget, Lord Uxbridge

John Mytton was physically a fine animal: in height about 5ft. 9in., in weight 12st., with magnificent shoulders, a splendid chest, and an arm the biceps muscle of which was larger than that of Jackson's, the celebrated pugilist, who was believed to be the most powerful man of his time in England. He was fond of displaying his strength, but it was perhaps fortunate that he steadily refused to learn boxing.

In dress Mytton was peculiar, not to say eccentric. He never wore any but the thinnest and finest silk stockings, with very thin boots or shoes, so that in winter he very rarely had dry feet. To flannel he was a stranger from the time he left off petticoats. Even his hunting-breeches were without lining; he wore one small waistcoat, always open in the front from the second of the lower buttons, and about home he was as often without a hat as with one. His winter shooting gear was a light jacket, white linen trousers without lining or drawers; and in frost and snow he waded through all water that came in his way. These, however, are not exceptional marks of hardihood, we know men of the present day who go as lightly clad through all the seasons. But Mytton went further than this. He would sometimes strip to his shirt to follow wildfowl in hard weather, and once actually laid himself down in the snow with absolutely not a stitch on him but his shirt to await the arrival of the ducks at dusk.

Curiously enough, extravagant though he was in other respects, Mr. Mytton made no great show in his establishment at Halston. There was every comfort but no display, and had he conducted all his affairs with the same regularity and simplicity as his menage at his ancestral seat he would never have run through upwards of half-amillion of money in less than fifteen years as he did. But it was not difficult to find where the screw was loose in his expenditure. His foxhounds were kept by himself and upon a very extensive scale, with the additional expenses of hunting two countries. His racing establishment was on a still larger scale, for he often had from fifteen to twenty horses in training at the same time, and seldom less than eight. His average number, indeed, of thoroughbred stock at home and from home, including brood mares and yearlings, was about thirty-six, which probably cost him something like £6,000 a-year. His game preserves, too, were a severe drain upon his income; for besides such items as £1,500 in one bill to a London dealer for pheasants and foxes alone, there was the formation of miles of plantations which this game went in part to stock, and which he employed a staff of fifty labourers to keep in order. He was a great friend, too, to the tailors, having frequently in his wardrobes as many as a hundred and fifty pairs of breeches and trousers, with a proportionate number of coats and waistcoats. In his cellars there were "hogsheads of ale, standing like soldiers in close column, and wine enough in wood and bottle for a Roman emperor." He made his own malt, and "John Mytton, Licensed Maltster," was painted in large letters over the malt house door. How much he spent on post horses it is impossible to guess; but almost every post boy in England knew "Squire Mytton" and lamented his fall. He never stayed at an inn without giving the waiter a guinea, and he would never pay a tradesman's bill until he had received a writ. A strange unaccountable creature he was, who though always making a great pretence of "enjoying life," seems really never to have derived enjoyment from anything.

A summary of Mr. Mytton's actual racing career may be comprised in a few words. He had too many horses in the first place, and too many of them not good enough to pay their way. It isevident he was anxious to have good ones from the prices he paid; but he bought several of that sort after their day had gone by; for example, Comte d'Artois, Banker, Longwaist, &c. He had, however, several good winners, old Euphrates at their head, and Whittington, Oswestry and Halston were esteemed very "smart" horses in the racing world. Indeed, it is believed that in some hands they would have proved trump cards. As for himself as a racing man he was too severe upon his horses: they rarely came out fresh after Chester and one or two other places. He seldom backed his horses to any serious amount, generally not at all. His stables were upon Delamere Forest, in Cheshire; his home-stud groom, Tinkler, was a careful nurser of young racing stock, but do what he would, Mr. Mytton was never able to breed a good racehorse.

It would be out of place to discuss here Mr. Mytton's conduct towards his wives, of whom the second fared no better than the first. His brutality was inexcusable, and the most charitable supposition is that it was the result of a morbid insanity. For the last twelve years of his life it may safely be stated that he was never sober. His daily quantum of port wine was from four to six bottles; but even in spite of this excess he would probably have lived far longer than he did had he not in an evil hour discarded port for brandy. Even his adamantine constitution, "perhaps the hardiest ever bestowed upon man," as " Nimrod" says, was not proof against that. He went from bad to worse, till in the year 1830 the world heard without surprise that "it was all up with Jack Mytton." Everything that could be sold was sold, and he retired to Calais with just a small pittance sufficient to keep body and soul together. There he completed the wreck of his magnificent physique by drinking brandy till he really was a raving lunatic. On partially recovering his senses, he came over to England, when he was arrested and thrown into the King's Bench Prison, beyond the gates of which he was destined never to pass alive. For there he died in misery and squalor in the thirtyeighth year of his age. And so ended the mournfullest, the maddest, the most utterly wasted career of which the annals of the turf contain any record.

The (very sad) End

The Story of "Mad Jack" Mytton

2012-01-29T03:47:00.001-05:00

A true Regency eccentric, John 'Mad Jack' Mytton was born at Halston in 1796. He inherited a fortune worth about £500,000 a year by today’s standards, but died in 1828 at the King's Bench debtors' prison in Southwark at the age of just thirty-seven. Alas, we are getting ahead of ourselves . . . .

Young Squire Mytton, expelled from both Westminster and Harrow, arrived for studies at Cambridge University with “2,000 bottles of port to sustain him during his studies.” You will not be surrpised to learn that he failed to graduate. Mytton went on to drink six bottles of port a day, although he was known to drink eau de cologne when brandy was not readily available. Mytton enjoyed country pursuits such as racing, driving and hunting, but he was also civic minded - he 'invested' £10,000 to become MP for Shrewsbury by paying ten pounds each for votes, but once elected he spent less that half an hour in the House of Commons.

Madcap pranks made Mytton a legend in his own lifetime and it was said that as a whole, Mytton's life amounted to a "series of suicide attempts." A drunken friend was put to bed with two bulldogs and a bear. Mytton went duck shooting by moonlight on Halston's frozen lake, dressed in only his nightshirt. Disguised as a highwayman, complete with his blazing pistols, he ambushed departing guests on the Oswestry road. In 1826, after winning a bet, he rode his horse into the Bedford Hotel in Leamington Spa, up the grand staircase and onto the balcony, from which he jumped, still seated on his horse, over the diners in the restaurant below, and out through the window onto the Parade. During a visit to France, Mytton set fire to his night shirt in an effort to cure himself of the hiccups. The drastic step did end the hiccups, but left Mytton with serious burns to his upper body.

One biographer notes that Mytton once rode a bear into his drawing room in full hunting costume. "The bear carried him very quietly for a time; but on being pricked by the spur he bit his rider through the calf of his leg." Mytton owned thousands of dogs and cats during his lifetime, some of which he had dressed in costumes. Perhaps his favorite pet was a horse named Baronet, who had full run of the Hall and who often lay down and napped before the fire.

Halston Hall, Shropshire - More info on their website

'Mad Jack' lost his money, but not his friends. Three thousand people attended his funeral. He is buried in the Chapel at Halston, but his ghost is said to appear annually on Mytton's birthday, September 30th, at theMytton & Mermaid Hotel at Atcham. His funeral procession stopped at the Mytton, then a coaching inn, on the way to Halston Chapel. Mad Jack also lives on today in Mad Jack Mytton Way, a seventy mile route through some of rural England's most unspoilt and beautiful countryside. The route starts near Highley and ends at the bridge over the River Terne in Llanfair Waterdine on the Welsh border and is regularly used by riders, cyclists and walkers.

Next time, more Mytton anecdotes from Famous Racing Men by Willmott-Dixon Thormanby (1882)

In Residence at Ickworth, Suffolk

2012-01-27T04:00:00.002-05:00

Yes, dear readers, I have indeed lived at Ickworth -- that is, I've stayed at the hotel in one wing of the estate -- for a few days. Victoria here, with a few words about this amazing National Trust property which houses a family hotel as well as the handsomely maintained State Rooms in the Rotunda and a fine park. And there are some fascinating characters and family stories (even scandals) to go along with your tour.

The National Trust has a lovely slide show of Ickworth here. They are in the process of developing more insights into the individuals both above and below stairs who occupied this unique spot for several centuries.

I admit that while I think I can appreciate life long ago, I do enjoy the mod cons of our contemporary lives.

This east wing of Ickworth houses the hotel, which has a website here. I wish we could have stayed longer because the amenities were excellent, the food delicious, and for ambiance, it excelled! I should point out that my photo was taken from behind the buildings. The other wing, the West Wing, has been developed for conferences, weddings and other events. The east wing was first used as the Hervey family residence. The west wing was empty, built only for the symmetry of the architecture. For a time, it was used as a conservatory.

This is the entrance to the rotunda, the galleries and rooms housing the NT collections. The Hervey family lived at the Ickworth estate for centuries, though this building was not completed until the 19th century.

Not far from this lonely sheep there is a walled garden, now a vineyard. Here is more information on their output. It is very tasty.

Ickworth as it stands today was the creation of an eccentric and passionate collector, the Earl Bishop, as he is popularly known. Frederick Augustus Hervey (1739-1803) was a younger son but succeeded to the title of 4th Earl of Bristol, following two of his brothers. Though he had originally chosen a legal career, he took orders and was eventually named Bishop of Cloyne (1767) and of Derry (1768) in Ireland. He grew rich on the proceeds of this and other offices and built a great house in Ballyscullion, which he had designed by Mario Aspucci, an Italian architect, for throughout his life the Earl Bishop traveled and collected in Italy, hoping to furnish his magnificent houses with the finest art and furnishings. He was partial to the rotunda style of building in the great Roman tradition.

Above is a drawing of the house at Ballyscullion. It did not last long, for it was demolished in the early 19th century, never completely finished and already deteriorating. However, the handsome portico was saved and can be seen today as part of St.George's Church, Belfast. Notice how it resembles the portico of the rotunda, above.

The Bishop succeeded his brother in 1779 as 4th Earl of Bristol and became known as the Earl-Bishop. He also inherited the properties at Ickworth, an old manor which had a relatively small lodge to house the family. The Earl Bishop used something very similar to the plans for his Ballyscullion house to build Ickworth. The project began in 1795.

Ickworth from the Park

However, his extraordinary life ran into some bad karma. In 1798, the invading Napoleonic troops in Italy overran and confiscated his collection, destined for the new house at Ickworth. He himself died in 1803 and was succeeded by the youngest of his sons, another Frederick (1769-1859), who spend his lifetime trying to complete the great mansion at Ickworth. It was finished in 1841, though the Pompeiian Room was not decorated until 1879. In the Rotunda, operated as a museum by the NT, the Earl Bishop's surviving collections are exhibited, including a few pieces purchased much later from the stolen cache.

Bess Foster by Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun

The Earl Bishop's most famous, perhaps notorious, child was his daughter Elizabeth Christiana Hervey (1758-1824) who married John Thomas Foster in 1776 and left her husband and two sons a few years later. Though she was probably mistreated, she had no recourse. She met Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and they became bosom buds, in an infamous menage a trois with the Duke. During the period 1782 to Georgiana's death in 1806, she bore the duke two children, a son and a daughter, who were raised with his legitimate offspring at Devonshire House and Chatsworth. Bess married the Duke of Devonshire in 1809, only two years before his death.

A Lounge at the Ickworth Hotel

Above, two views of our lovely bedchamber in the hotel.

Although it was October, the roses were still in bloom.

St. Mary's Ickworth

When we visited, this historic church, the burial place for Hervey Family members, was still in disrepair and unopen to visitors. I hope they restore it soon.

As eccentric as it appears, a little slice of ancient Italy in Suffolk, it is a beautiful place to visit. It has everything for family entertainment plus the great museum, the park and nearby is the picturesque town of Bury St. Edmunds, not to mention the Newmarket racetrack. All are highly recommended!!!

Birthday of Robert Burns, January 25, 1759

2012-01-25T04:00:00.005-05:00

Did you notice around last New Year's Eve all the coverage of Auld Lang Syne -- and how we all sang it at midnight to welcome the new year, but few of us actually knew the words -- or where the song originated? I think I saw or heard similar stories on all of the major networks and news channels.

Why, I wondered, when this song had been a tradition for so long, was everyone talking about it this year? The answer is that the Morgan Library in New York City has an exhibition about Auld Lang Syne and its author, Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759-1796), whose birthday we celebrate on the 25th of January. For more information about the exhibition, soon to conclude at the Morgan Library, click here.

Of course, we remember Burns for much more than just this one song, however often we sing it on New Year's Eve.

Burns Nights, on January 25, are celebrated all over the world. If you have one in the planning, you can find some guidance here. I have attended only one Burns Night Supper, which I enjoyed very much, though I admit I ate sparingly of the Haggis. It generally tastes delicious, until you remember what the ingredients are.

Like tartans, bagpipes, golf, scotch whisky and oatmeal, Burns is part of the essential Scottish tradition. We remember his many poems -- probably in truth just fragments of them --

My Love is Like a Red Red Rose...

To a Mouse...

The list is endless. How did the man accomplish anything but his writing? There is more than one person can absorb...

Above, Burns in Central Park, New York City. Above that is a statue in Dumfries,Scotland. It is said that there are more public statues of Burns in places around the world than anyone else in history. I have no idea if this is true, but I've seen a lot. Below, Burns Commons in Milwaukee, WI, that bastion of Scottish heritage (not).

And just in case you haven't made your Haggis for tonight, here are the ingredients:

stomach of a sheep
sheep's heart,lungs, kidney and liver
onions, beef suet, oatmeal
salt and pepper, stock --- beef or chicken

Okay. That's as far as I can go. I suggest that if you want to assemble these ingredients, you Google a recipe. I'll have a ham sandwich.

But I will definitely raise a glass of Scotch Whisky in Burns's honor!!!

Above, The Burns birthplace and museum in Alloyway, Ayshire, Scotland. Happy birthday, Rabbie!!

The Wellington Connection: Theme Parks

2012-01-24T02:57:00.002-05:00

There are plans afoot to build "Napoleonland" in France. And, no, before you ask . . . I'm not kidding.

Funding is as yet unsecured, but preliminary plans are for the theme park to be built at the site where Napoleon defeated the Austrians in the Battle of Montereau in 1814 in Montereau-Fault-Yonne just south of Paris. The six-day battle was the nation's last military victory over the Austrians.

Having apparently not gotten the memo telling the organizers of the park that Napoleon lost at Waterloo, they plan to re-create the Battle of Waterloo on a daily basis and visitors may even be able to take part in the reenactments. They will also be able to take in a water show recreating the Battle of Trafalgar, a la the entertainments once staged at London's Vauxhall Gardens.

A museum, a hotel, shops, restaurants and a congress are all expected to be built at the theme park. French politician Yves Jego, who is backing the project, hopes that construction work can get underway in 2014 and that the park will open its doors in 2017. One has to assume that Jego will not be seeking re-election, as things go from bad to worse in the bad taste department with further plans to include a re-creation of the killing of Louis XVI, France's last King, who died after being guillotined during the Revolution and. . . . . . . yet another attraction which will allow visitors to ski around the bodies of soldiers and horses frozen on the battlefield.

Why are there no plans to build Artie World instead?

Byron's Birthday, January 22, 1788

2012-01-22T04:00:00.004-05:00

Byron by Richard Westall

To celebrate the birthday of George Gordon, Lord Byron, the renowned poet, we present an account of him by Captain Gronow, from his Reminiscences, published in 1862, written long after the events he describes. Rees Howell Gronow (1794-1865) was a captain in the Welsh Grenadier Guards.

From Gronow's Reminiscences:

I knew very little of Lord Byron personally, but lived much with two of his intimate friends, Scrope Davis and Wedderburn Webster; from whom I frequently heard many anecdotes of him. I regret that I remember so few; and wish that I had written down those told me by poor Scrope Davis, one of the most agreeable men I ever met.

When Byron was at Cambridge, he was introduced to Scrope Davis by their mutual friend, Matthews, who was afterwards drowned in the river Cam. After Matthews's death, Davis became Byron's particular friend, and was admitted to his rooms at all hours. Upon one occasion he found the poet in bed with his hair en papillote, upon which Scrope cried, "Ha, ha! Byron, I have at last caught you acting the part of the Sleeping Beauty."

Byron by Thomas Philipps (1770-1845)

Byron, in a rage, exclaimed, "No, Scrope; the part of a d----d fool, you should have said."

"Well, then, anything you please; but you have succeeded admirably in deceiving your friends, for it was my conviction that your hair curled naturally."

"Yes, naturally, every night," returned the poet; "but do not, my dear Scrope, let the cat out of the bag, for I am as vain of my curls as a girl of sixteen."

When in London, Byron used to go to Manton's shooting-gallery, in Davis street, to try his hand, as he said, at a wafer. Wedderburn Webster was present when the poet, intensely delighted with his own skill, boasted to Joe Manton that he considered himself the best shot in London. "No, my lord," replied Manton, "not the best; but your shooting, to-day, was respectable;" upon which Byron waxed wroth, and left the shop in a violent passion.

Newstead Abbey, Byron's estate, 12 miles north of Nottingham

Lords Byron, Yarmouth, Pollington, Mountjoy, Walliscourt, Blandford, Captain Burges, Jack Bouverie, and myself, were in 1814, and for several years afterwards, amongst the chief and most constant frequenters of this well-known shooting-gallery, and frequently shot at the wafer for considerable sums of money. Manton was allowed to enter the betting list, and he generally backed me. On one occasion, I hit the wafer nineteen times out of twenty.

Byron lived a great deal at Brighton, his house being opposite the Pavilion. He was fond of boating, and was generally accompanied by a lad, who was said to be a girl in boy's clothes. This report was confirmed to me by Webster, who was then living at Brighton. The vivid description of the page in Lara, no doubt, gave some plausibility to this often-told tale. I myself witnessed the dexterous manner in which Byron used to get into his boat; for, while standing on the beach, I once saw him vault into it with the agility of a harlequin, in spite of his lame foot.

On one occasion, whilst his lordship was dining with a few of his friends in Charles Street, Pall Mall, a letter was delivered to Scrope Davis, which required an immediate answer. Scrope, after reading its contents, handed it to Lord Byron. It was thus worded:--

"MY DEAR SCROPE,--Lend me 500L. for a few days; the funds are shut for the dividends, or I would not have made this request. "G. BRUMMELL."

The reply was:--

"My DEAR BRUMMELL,--All my money is locked up in the funds. "SCROPE DAVIS."

This was just before Brummell's escape to the Continent.

Dining Room Fireplace, Newstead Abbey

I have frequently asked Scrope Davis his private opinion of Lord Byron, and invariably received the same answer--that he considered Lord Byron very agreeable and clever, but vain, overbearing, conceited, suspicious, and jealous. Byron hated Palmerston, but liked Peel, and thought that the whole world ought to be constantly employed in admiring his poetry and himself: he never could write a poem or a drama without making himself its hero, and he was always the subject of his own conversation.

Bust of Byron, Newstead Abbey

During one of Henry Hobhouse's visits to Byron, at his villa near Genoa, and whilst they were walking in the garden, his lordship suddenly turned upon his guest, and, apropos of nothing, exclaimed, "Now, I know, Hobhouse, you are looking at my foot." Upon which Hobhouse kindly replied, "My dear Byron, nobody thinks of or looks at anything but your head."

Abbey Ruins, Newstead Abbey

For a two-part filmed tour of Newstead Abbey, click here. Look for the Guided Tour on the right.

Happy Birthday, Lord Byron...

The Death of King George V, January 20, 1936

2012-01-20T04:00:00.003-05:00

King George V

King George V died 76 years ago of lung disease. Grandson of Queen Victoria and grandfather to Queen Elizabeth II, his death was expected (he had been a heavy smoker and ill for some time). However, controversy surrounding his death surfaced a few decades ago when the diary of his lead attending physician, Lord Dawson of Penn, was revealed. In his notes after the death, Dawson wrote he administered to the king a lethal dose of drugs, morphine and cocaine, ensuring that George V would die before midnight. Dawson was motivated by a desire to preserve the King's dignity, protect the family (and realm) from a long period of confusion, and probably to allow the announcement of the King's death to be made in the morning newspapers instead of the afternoon press, the latter considered less authoritative and more sensational.

Prince George, age 5, 1870

George Frederick Ernest Albert was born in 1865, the second son of Albert, Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII, 1841-1910), and Princess Alexandra (1844-1925). Throughout his early life, he did not expect to inherit the throne, but in 1892, his elder brother, Prince Albert Victor, died of pneumonia and George became second in line to the throne, after his father, and was named Duke of York. Albert had recently become engaged to Princess Mary of Teck (1867-1953), known as May, and after a suitable period of mourning for him, May and George became engaged with the approval of Queen Victoria. The wedding took place in 1893.

After the death of Queen Victoria in 1901, her son Edward VII ruled for just over nine years before he suffered fatal heart disease. George, during his father's reign, was Prince of Wales. When he took the throne as George V, the troubles in Europe which led to World War I were already well underway. George V was a first cousin of both German Kaiser Wilhelm and Tsar Nicholas II of Russia. Family ties, sadly, did not prevent the catastrophe to come.

The war and its aftermath occasioned many changes in Great Britain and the Empire. The family name of the royals was changed from Saxe-Coburg-Gotha to Windsor. Stirrings in Ireland and other territories had long-reaching consequences, not to mention the rush of technological change. George V was the first King to address his people by radio, as recently portrayed in the film The King's Speech, the story of George V's son, George VI. Below, King George V as portrayed in the film by famed British actor Michael Gambon.

Michael Gambon as George V

In the film, George V is portrayed as a stern father, intolerant of the shortcomings of his sons. His eldest son, known as David, succeeded him as Edward VIII, but reigned for less than a year, abdicating to marry the American divorcee Wallis Simpson. In turn, George V's second son became King George VI. In many stories about George V's life, we learn he expressed his hope that David would never marry and have children, because he (Geroge V) wanted nothing to come between the throne and his granddaughter Elizabeth, the present Queen, called Lilibet.

Elizabeth II is about to observe her Diamond Jubilee, sixty years as Queen. George V reigned for just over 25 years. Upon the celebration of his Silver Jubilee in 1935, he was touched at the affection expressed for him by the people of the nation and the empire. The occasion was marked by many tributes and a wide variety of souvenirs, including china, medals and stamps, the latter reflecting the King's hobby of collecting.

When I first began to write about George V's death, I had no idea of the controversy that arose about fifty years after the event. Though the existence of Lord Dawson's diary and its revelation of how the death was hastened had been known to a few, it was not made public until 1986, fifty years after the death. A few hours before he administered the final drugs, Dawson told the nation, "The King's life is moving peacefully towards its close."

Lord Dawson of Penn, ©National Portrait Gallery

According to the New York Times of November 28, 1986, a biographer of George V, Kenneth Rose, said he now considered that Dawson had murdered the King. But there was no official statement from Buckingham Palace, just the remark that it all happened a very long time ago and all those involved were now dead. Whether or not members of the King's family were consulted or knew of the injections is not known.

After the tumultuous years of his reign -- world war, the first Labour government, influenza epidemics, extension of women's rights to vote, general strike, the great depression -- perhaps a case of euthanasia is not so shattering. But it was a surprise to me.

To quote Dawson's diary, for January 20, 1936: "At about 11 o'clock it was evident that the last stage might endure for many hours, unknown to the patient but little comporting with the dignity and serenity which he so richly merited and which demanded a brief final scene. Hours of waiting just for the mechanical end when all that is really life has departed only exhausts the onlookers and keeps them so strained that they cannot avail themselves of the solace of thought, communion or prayer. I therefore decided to determine the end and injected (myself) morphia gr. 3/4 and shortly afterwards cocaine gr. 1 into the distended jugular vein."

George V died before midnight. Below, the funeral cortege moves through Windsor.

Queen Mary lived on until 1953. She is buried beside her husband in St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle.

Captain Cook Reaches Hawaii

2012-01-18T04:00:00.006-05:00

On the 18th of January, 1778, Captain James Cook (1728-1779), leading an expedition on HMS Resolution and HMS Discovery, became the first European to discover the territory of what we now know as the Hawaiian Islands. Victoria here, now resident in her own little paradise in Florida, writing about a place she has never been!

Captain Cook, c. 1775

Cook led several voyages of discovery to Newfoundland, Australia, New Zealand and throughout the Pacific Islands. After his career in the British Navy in North America, the famed cartographer and navigator sailed through vast uncharted territories. On his ships, he carried scientists such as Joseph Banks and others who collected specimens of unusual plants, insects, animals and fossils which greatly expanded contemporary knowledge of natural history. The tales of resident peoples and their customs fascinated Europe.

Hawaiian Beaches, a touch of paradise

Cook named the "new" cluster of islands the Sandwich Islands, after John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich (1718-1792), who was a sponsor of the voyage.

4th Earl of Sandwich

The 4th Earl of Sandwich is, perhaps, even more famous for his invention of the meat and bread combination named after him. It is said that he wanted his meat wrapped in bread so that he could munch while staying in place at the gambling table; if that legend is not the truth, I sincerely doubt that it will ever be disproved.

The Hawaiian Islands are the northern-most islands of Polynesia, formed eons ago of volcanoes erupting through the Pacific waters. After Cook's first visit, he explored further northward, looking for that fabled northwest passge from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Unsuccessful, the ships returned to the "Sandwich Islands" in 1779. While their first visit had been peaceful, the second soon descended into trouble, ending with the death of some of the natives and Europeans, including Cook.

More pretty pictures

Following publications of the journals of Cook's voyage and other accounts of the islands, more European explorers, whalers, and traders arrived, bringing with them the germs of deadly diseases such as influenza, measles and smallpox, and causing a precipitous decline in the native population.

I will not attept to catalogue all the events in Hawaiian history. Suffice it to say that after a period of consolidation, the islands became a kingdom and eventually were annexed to the United States as a territory in 1898. In 1959, Hawaii became the 50th (and last) state of the union. The role of the British in the development of the islands is commemorated in the Hawaiian flag, with the design of the Union Jack in the upper left corner.

I admit I have always wanted to visit the Hawaiian Islands, but every time I consider the amount of time it would take to fly there, I realize that in the same number of hours, I could be back in England. Guess where I go! But someday -- I'll make it. If you have been to Hawaii, please share your impressions of the islands and convince me to book it!!

Or maybe I should just go to see George Clooney in The Descendants????

Visiting Belton House

2012-01-16T04:00:00.003-05:00

Victoria, here, inviting you to come along on a visit to Belton House, sometimes chosen as the penultimate example of the perfect English Country House.

Belton House in Lincolnshire (south front, above) was built in the late 17th century for Sir John Brownlow (1659-97); although the house was once attributed to Sir Christopher Wren, the architect was probably William Winde (d. 1722). The house resembles the now-demolished Clarendon House, Piccadilly, built by Sir Roger Pratt for the Lord Chancellor a decade or so before Belton was designed.

Clarendon House (drawing above) was very influential in Restoration architecture; but it lasted just a few decades before it was pulled down for the creation of several Mayfair streets.

In various remodelings during the centuries, Belton lost its first cupola, but it was replaced in the 1870's when the 3rd Earl Brownlow restored the house to its original appearance.

©National Trust

Belton remained in the Brownlow-Cust family for three hundred years before Edward John
Peregrine Cust, 7th Baron Brownlow, gave the house to the National Trust in 1985. Above is the charming conversation piece portrait of the family by Philippe Mercier, c. 1725, showing the family in the park with the house in the background.

For more information in Belton House, click here. For more about the collections and interiors, click here. The park and gardens at Belton are beautifully laid out and maintained.

The Orangery, above and below, was designed by Sir Jeffry Wyatttville in 1811-19. Wyattville is probably best known as the architect for the George IV's remodeling of Windsor Castle.

Below, Adelaide, Countess Brownlow (1844-1917), and her husband, the 3rd Earl Brownlow, restored Belton to its original appearance. She was painted by the brilliant Victorian artist Sir Frederick Leighton.

In the 1995 film version of Pride and Prejudice, Belton House played the role of Rosings, the estate of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Quite a few important scenes were shot here, during which Darcy deepened his regard for Elizabeth. Below, he stands on the staircase, observing his beloved.

In this view of the staircase, the portrait of Adelaide, Countess Brownlow, can be seen at the top.

Above, the North Front of Belton House; below, the view of the garden from the steps.

Doesn't this beckon you to explore? I am sure that, like Elizabeth Bennet, if I just ambled down this path, I might find my own Darcy waiting in the shrubbery. Well, we all can dream...

Hester and the Queen

2012-01-14T04:12:00.003-05:00

As many of our loyal readers will know, we have had a link to the new Windsor and Royal Borough in our sidebar for some time now. Our dear friend and frequent blog post contributor, Hester Davenport, was a moving force in making the Museum a reality and on Friday, December 9th, the Queen officially opened the museum, located in the Berkshire town guildhall where Prince Charles married Camilla Parker Bowles in 2005. The £300,000 museum is housed in the Maidenhead room of the 17th Century Grade I listed Windsor Guildhall.

After the official ceremony, the Queen was shown a selection of displays and was introduced to our Hester, who actually got to touch the Royal Glove, above.

The foundation stone of the Guildhall was laid on 5 September 1687 and the extension in which the museum is housed was completed in 1830. Markets were held there until 1901 when the ground floor was enclosed. Sixty years ago, in 1951 the Queen, who was then Princess Elizabeth, opened the refurbished Windsor Guildhall.

You may recall that it was Hester who acted as our guide during the visit Vicky and I made to Windsor, but if not, you can read our blog post about the day here. It was due to Hester's Royal knowledge that Vicky and I were able to see the Queen up close as her procession left Windsor Castle for the Ascot Races. Vicky and I are dead chuffed that Hester was able to top herself and to get thisclose to the Queen, who Hester told us confidentially seemed very nice as well as very interested in the Museum. As Hester keeps one upping herself in the Royal stakes, Vicky and I can only imagine what she'll have in store for us on our next visit - tea at the Palace, perhaps?

Victoria here -- just checking the mail for the invitation to that tea. Not here yet! I had another wonderful day with Hester last June, 2011, at the Museum. All the details are here. Hester and I had a wonderful time discussing, in addition to the museum, the Queen and many other topics, our favorite authors Fanny Burney, Jane Austen, and Perdita aka Mary Robinson.

Happy 2012 to Hester and all of our readers!

Fashions of 1812

2012-01-12T03:00:00.001-05:00

Victoria here, looking through my collection of regency-era fashion plates to see what was worn 200 years ago. I find I have five plates from 1812, two framed on the wall of my office, the others filed away in notebooks. So here, in case you want to be entirely up to date two centuries ago:

Fashions of 1812

Ackermann's Repository of Arts Half Dress, January 1812

A Roman round robe of stone colour or pale olive cloth embroidered in a variegated chenille border; long sleeves finished at the wrist to correspond and lined with pink sarsnet. Pomeranian mantle of silk, the colour of the robe and finished with deep Chinese silk fringe. Cap of black or colored velvet, ornamented with a rich silk tassel, and curled ostrich feathers placed towards the left side. High standing collar of muslin or net, edged with lace or needle work, rising above the robe at the throat. Pink embroidered ridicule. Gloves a pale lemon colour, and half boots of pink kid, trimmed with narrow sable fur.

Ladies Magazine January 1812 London Morning and Evening Dresses

Morning dress. – Pelisse of maroon silk, lined throughout with fur, which when buttoned, forms a sort of lappel: standing collar, to turn over; and very deep cuffs. – A hat of the same silk, trimmed with ribbon and feathers.

Evening dress, of green satin, with epaulettes of lace.– Cap of the same, trimmed with lace and a flower.

Ackermann's Repository of Arts Morning Dress, May 1812

A French frock of fine plain India muslin, with demi-train, and long full bishop's sleeves. Waggoners' cuffs, with gaged front, and shoulders to correspond. Tucker of double-rolled muslin, which also finishes the cuffs round the hands.

A Parisian mob cap of fine lace, confined round the head, and terminating on one side with a celestial blue or silver grey ribbon. Sash of the same, tied in small bows and ends in front. Hair in waved curls, divided in the center of the forehead. Spanish slippers of lemon-colored kid, and gloves of the same material.

The peculiar taste and elegant simplicity of these habiliments are further specimens of the graceful invention of the celebrated Mrs. Gill, of Cork-streeet, Burlington-gardens, from whom we have obtained them.

Ackermann's Repository of Arts November 1812 Evening Dress

A white crape or mull muslin petticoat, worn over white satin, finished round the bottom with a ball fringe of gold; a crimson velvet or satin bodice, formed so as partially to expose the bosom and shoulders. A short bishop's sleeve, edged with ball fringe, and ornamented with the same round the bosom, and shoulders. A short sash of shaded ribband, to correspond with the colour of the bodice, tied in short bows and ends in front of the figure.

A shepherdess's hat, composed of crimson velvet and white satin; a curled ostrich feather placed entirely on one side, and waving towards the back of the neck. The hair divided on the forehead, and curled on each side, rather lower than of late. Treble neck-chain, and amulet of wrought gold; short drop ear rings, and bracelets en suite. Crimson velvet or satin slippers trimmed with gold rosettes or fringe. White kid gloves, just avoiding the elbow. Fan of white and silver embossed crape or carved ivory. Occasional scarf of white French silk, with embroidered ends and border.

La Belle Assemblee February, 1812 --A Winter Walking Dress

A scarlet Merino cloth pelisse, lined with straw coloured sarsnet, trimmed with light coloured spotted fur, and attached with loops of black silk cordon and rich frog tassels; the broad fur in front, forming a tippet, pointed at the back. A narrow fur passes from the top of the sleeve, is brought down the side seams, and relieved by fastenings of black silk cordon; four loops with frogs ornament the shoulders and cuffs; plain standing up collar tied with cordon: a fine cashemire shawl, with brown ground, and richly variegated border, is generally thrown over the dress, in which is united both comfort and elegance. A Swedish hat of the same material as the pelisse, lined with straw colour, and fastened up one side; the crown trimmed with two rows of narrow spotted fur, and one still narrower at the edge of the hat; a bunch of the Christmas holly in front, and two tassels falling from the summit of the crown, of black, to answer the pelisse, with is worn over a white round dress, either of plain or corded cambric. Beaver gloves, and demi-broquins of scarlet Morocco, laced with black, and lined with fur, complete the dress.

Of all the outfits pictured here, I think I'd choose the evening dress with the shepherdess hat! Just the thing for the next ball I attend. Though since I am still in Wisconsin, I suppose I'd be wise to choose that fur-trimmed winter walking dress, which looks like it would be comfy on a windy, chilly day.

The Wellington Connection: War Horse

2012-01-10T02:54:00.003-05:00

I went to see War Horse in the movies recently and got a few surprises. Firstly, I was under the impression that no one recognizable was in the cast. Imagine my surprise when I saw Benedict Cumberbatch on screen as Major Jamie Stewart who, by the way, is the antithesis of the Duke of Wellington as far as military strategy is concerned.

Tom Hiddleston, who first came to my notice in the 2001 version of Nicholas Nickleby, played Captain Nicholls in War Horse. He is the officer who first takes possession of Joey, or the War Horse, when he's intially sold to the Army. He vows to keep the horse safe and to return him at the end of the war.

Worth an honourable mention is Eddie Marsan as Sgt. Fry.

Another surprising thing about War Horse - I found myself crying at odd moments when no one else did. My first tear was shed at the opening when they showed wide shots of the hedgerows and fields of the English countryside. Next, I choked up when I saw the village in the scene where Joey is led away with the Army.

It was so iconically English. Turns out that the scene was shot in Water Street, Castle Combe, Wiltshire, below.

Then there was the scene where Cumberbatch and Hiddleston race for the gold ring during a practice charge. The entire regiment draws their swords and gallops forward, the ground thundering beneath them as thousands of hooves tear up the turf. It was so reminiscent of Waterloo that I couldn't help tearing up. Not that I was actually at Waterloo, mind you. Well, I was at Waterloo, but not during the battle. Well, okay, I was at Waterloo during a battle, but not during the Battle of Waterloo in 1815.

And then Benedict Cumberbatch, as Major Stewart, leads the regiment in their first battle charge in France, telling his men that their initial charge must at all costs be decisive, as it was at Waterloo, et al. And then, they begin their charge in a field of wheat, a la Waterloo.

Oh, the humanity! As I choked out a sob, my husband said, "What are you crying for? Nothing's happened yet." Little did he know that it had happened. In 1815. In Belgium. In my mind. But the Wellington Connection was other than simply in my mind - it turns out that portions of War Horse were actually filmed at the Duke of Welllington's country home, Stratfield Saye, a fact pointed out to me by Jo Manning, who apparently sat through all the credits and noted that the producers thanked Lord and Lady Douro for their cooperation in filming. Wikipedia tells us that "Filming of War Horse began with the cavalry scenes being filmed at Stratfield Saye House in north Hampshire, the estate of the Duke of Wellington, where incidentally Wellington's war horse "Copenhagen" is buried. Here a cavalry charge involving 130 extras was filmed."

So, there you have the Wellington Connection. For anything and everything else about War Horse, check Wikipedia here.

Catching Up on 2011

2012-01-08T04:00:00.005-05:00

Victoria, here. In the early days of 2012, I find myself sorting some books I acquired in the last year and some I still have to find, many of them concerned with Jane Austen. Gee, isn't that a shock!

Two are short story collections.

I enjoyed many of the stories in these two collections and admired the creative ways in which Jane
Austen inspired these writers. I recommend both.

My friend and consummate author, Carrie Bebris, published Deception at Lyme, or The Peril of Persuasion, the sixth in her Mr and Mrs. Darcy mystery series. See her website here. Elizabeth and Darcy have solved a number of puzzles since their first outing in 2004's Pride and Prescience (or, A Truth Universally Acknowledged). And more are in the works.

Here is a book I haven't read yet, and have receive conflicting reports about: P.D. James version of Carrie's idea of having the Darcys investigate murder: Death Comes to Pemberley.

Of course, Baroness James gets a great deal of attention from the media, and no one can say she has not had a distinguished career. I have had many hours of delight from her books. But this one? Somehow, it smacks of jumping on the Austen bandwagon unnecessarily, but that could be unfair. I would love to hear from readers who have tried it out. I have a copy waiting for me next month, I think, when I get to the sunny south of Florida. I'll report back. (Note from Kristine: Yes, it's here waiting for you. I love James and so gave it a shot when Jo sent it to me. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it past Chapter Two).

Another book I will read soon is The Mysterious Death of Miss Austen by Lindsay Ashford. I met Ms. Ashford at the JASNA-AGM in Fort Worth TX in October 2011, but I must have been extremely distracted since her authorship of this book, talked of widely at the AGM, escaped me when we met.

This book reportedly attributes the death of Jane Austen to arsenic poisoning. In one of those coincidences that seem to happen every so often, shortly after meeting Ms. Ashford, I attended a talk on poisons by Deborah Blum, a Pulitzer-Prize-winning science reporter who teaches journalism at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She is the author of The Poisoner's Handbook, actually a catchy title for a history of forensic science in crime investigation.

Ms. Blum commented on reviews of the Ashford book and the report that a lock of Jane Austen's hair showed evidence of arsenic when tested. Arsenic, in Austen's day, was a common ingredient of many lotions and potions used to whiten complexion and for dozens of other uses. It did not surprise Blum to learn of the possibility of Austen having arsenic in her system as she probably used arsenic-laced skin products.

I have heard several people say they enjoyed Mysterious Death, so I will read it soon. (Note from Kristine - this, too, is here waiting for you. Haven't read it yet - too distracted by Thirkell).

I haven't kept track of all the Austen sequels and continuations that came out recently -- and there are lots of them. I know some of the authors and they are all hard-working, devoted people -- success to all of you! For more information, take a look at the website of Austen Authors.

Two quite different but related genres to the sequels are the modern restructures of the novels and the JA-experience novels. I read two of those this year, perhaps not quite on top of their publication dates.

The Three Weissmanns of Westport came out in paperback, and I found it an engaging read, based loosely on the plot of Sense & Sensibility. It is well done.

Beth Pattillo's Jane Austen Ruined My Life is also worth your time and energy. I resisted, because JA has done ANYTHING but ruined my life! She has provided great pleasure and stimulation, great companionship and friends, and a lifetime of interesting research topics related to her life and times. But a very well-respected friend loved it, and so did I. (Note from Kristine - I loved it, too!)

Finally, Stella Tillyard, author of The Aristocrats, Caroline, Emily, Louisa and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832, published a novel of the Peninsular War this year, another entry on my TBR list.

This is anything but an exhaustive list, but it looks like I'd better stop blogging and get reading if I am ever to catch up. Here's to a 2012 filled with wonderful books!

First Transatlantic Telephone Call

2012-01-06T04:01:00.001-05:00

It took 50 years from the invention of the telephone to make transatlantic phone calls possible, as there was much more than the mere laying of a cable to achieve the feat, since the voltages involved in telephone calls were too low to be passed though such a long cable and there was no known technology for underwater repeater amplifiers. It wasn't until the wireless was invented that across the pond communication became possible. Bell System engineers achieved the first voice transmission across the Atlantic, connecting Virginia and Paris briefly in 1915. A year later they held the first two-way conversation with a ship at sea. However, these were just experimental demonstrations and it wasn't until 7 March 1926 that the first transatlantic telephone call, from London to New York, was completed. The first commercial telephone service, using radio, began on January 7, 1927, between New York and London. The initial capacity was one call at a time at a cost of $75 for the first three minutes.

Harlaxton Manor

2012-01-04T03:49:00.003-05:00

From The Greville Memoirs

January 4 1838

"To-day we went to see the house Mr. Gregory is building, five miles from here. He is a gentleman of about 12,000 pounds. a year, who has a fancy to build a magnificent house in the Elizabethan style, and he is now in the middle of his work, all the shell being finished except one wing. Nothing can be more perfect than it is, both as to the architecture and the ornaments; but it stands on the slope of a hill upon a deep clay soil, with no park around it, very little wood, and scarcely any fine trees. Many years ago, when he first conceived this design, he began to amass money and lived for no other object. He travelled into all parts of Europe collecting objects of curiosity, useful or ornamental, for his projected palace, and he did not begin to build until he had accumulated money enough to complete his design. The grandeur of it is such, and such the tardiness of its progress, that it is about as much as he will do to live till its completion; and as he is not married, has no children, and dislikes the heir on whom his property is entailed, it is the means and not the end to which he looks for gratification. He says that it is his amusement, as hunting or shooting or feasting may be the objects of other people; and as the pursuit leads him into all parts of the world, and to mix with every variety of nation and character, besides engendering tastes pregnant with instruction and curious research, it is not irrational, although he should never inhabit his house, and may be toiling and saving for the benefit of persons he cares nothing about. The cottages round Harlaxton are worth seeing. It has been his fancy to build a whole village in all sorts of strange fantastic styles. There are Dutch and Swiss cottages, every variety of old English, and heaps of nondescript things, which appear only to have been built for variety's sake. The effect is extremely pretty. Close to the village is an old manor house, the most perfect specimen I ever saw of such a building, the habitation of an English country gentleman of former times, and there were a buff jerkin and a pair of jack boots hanging up in the hall, which the stout old Cavalier of the seventeenth century (and one feels sure that the owner of that house was a Cavalier) had very likely worn at Marston Moor or Naseby."

Delignes Gregory of Harlaxton Manor
Copyright Wiki Gallery

To read more about the Harlaxton cottages and gardens, click here.

Coutts Bank, a London Institution

2012-01-02T04:00:00.003-05:00

Victoria, here, dreaming about my weeks in England last spring. Here are my photos of Coutts Bank, The Strand, London, taken in June 2011. The bank's website is here.

It looks like an important place, though the architecture is about as 1970's Mundane as one could imagine. The only reason I actually noticed it was that I was often across the street, sitting in McDonald's where I could use their free wi-fi to power my iPad.* I was particularly amused that this great London institution, the bank that holds accounts for Her Majesty the Queen, had a glass curtain wall that clearly reflected that notable American institution on the other side!

[*Why is is that really inexpensive hotels have free wi-fi service while the better establishments charge outrageous amounts for the same thing? ]

As I walked closer to get this picture of the reflection of McDonald's, I think that guard inside picked up the phone to call for assistance to deal with the clearly deranged photographer on the pavement! I didn't wait around to see what happened! I'll bet the bank's directors did not consider what might happen to the glass during major demonstrations moving towards the adjacent Trafalgar Square. You can clearly see the McDonald's sign reflected above and to the right of his head.

So, fully knowing I was edging into Wellington Connection territory, I decided to see what more I could learn about Coutts Bank. Angela Coutts (1814-1906) was a dear friend of the 1st Duke of Wellington, one of those younger women so attracted to the Great Hero (*like many of us???). But there must be much more. The bank's website has a nice timeline and lots of information, but other than the widely known fact that QEII banks there, the list of clients is a well-protected secret.

It is said that checks written by (for?) the Queen are often saved as souvenirs, making it difficult to balance her accounts.

Here is an account of a famous period in the existence of the bank, excerpted from Tales of the Bank of England, with anecdotes of London bankers, an anonymous book from 1882:

"The house of Coutts & Co. has a very interesting history. A very great banking heiress is the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, whose recent marriage with Mr. Ashmead Coutts-Bartlett excited so much attention. The kindly and popular Baroness is—or was until recently—the head of the great banking firm of Coutts & Co., and was popularly supposed to draw a hundred thousand a year from the business. Mr. Coutts married, for his second wife, Miss Mellon, the actress, to whom he left his entire fortune—about a million of money. Mrs. Coutts, left a widow, married the Duke of St. Albans; but, in her marriage settlement, this vast fortune was left entirely in her own power. She thought that she would best carry out the wishes of her husband, who had made the money, by bequeathing it to his favourite granddaughter, Miss Angela Burdett, the daughter of the famous Sir Francis. An infinite amount of this money "has wandered Heaven-directed, to the poor." Child's Bank was once represented by a lady, who became Countess of Westmoreland, and afterwards by her daughter, who became Countess of Jersey. On certain state occasions Lady Jersey dined with the bank officials, and took the head of the table.

The history of Coutt's Bank shows how much may be done by a discriminating liberality. Old Coutts heard, one day at a dinner-party, from the manager of a city bank, that a nobleman had applied to his house for the loan of thirty thousand pounds, and had been refused. At ten o'clock at night he started for the peer's house, and saw his steward. He explained his business, and said that if the nobleman would call upon him the next morning, he might have whatever he wanted. On the next morning, when the noble lord called at the bank, Mr. Coutts handed him thirty notes of a thousand pounds each. "What security do you want?" asked the peer. "I shall be satisfied with your note-of hand," was the reply. This was given; and the nobleman said, " I shall only want for the present ten thousand pounds of the money; so I will leave twenty thousand pounds with you, and open an account." Some time afterwards the nobleman sold an estate for two hundred thousand pounds, which he deposited with Coutts's. Nor was this all. He told the anecdote to his friends, and also to George III. The King was so impressed with the story that he himself deposited a large sum with Mr. Coutts. The King withdrew his patronage, however, when Coutts supported Sir Francis Burdett in his contest for Middlesex with immense sums, and transferred his account to another banker, who failed; and we cannot help thinking that in this instance his Majesty was served quite right."

Angela Burdett-Coutts, portrait by an unknown artist, from the National Portrait Gallery

Another old excerpt about the bank appears in Walter Thornbury's 1865 volume Haunted London (this obviously refers to the old headquarters of the bank on The Strand, not the present building pictured above):

"No. 59 is Coutts's Bank. It was built by the Adam brothers—to whom we are indebted for the Adelphi—for Mr. Coutts, in 1768. The old house of the firm, of the date of Queen Anne, was situated in St. Martin's-lane. No. 59 contains some fine marble chimney-pieces of the Cipriani and Bacon school. The dining-room is hung with quaint Chinese subjects on paper, sent to Coutts by Lord Macartney, while on his embassy to China, in 1792-95. In another room hang portraits of some early friends of this son of Mammon, including Dr. Armstrong, the poet and physician, Fuseli's friend, by Reynolds. Mr. Coutts was the son of a Dundee merchant. His first wife was a servant, a Lancashire labourer's offspring. He had three daughters, one of whom became the wife of Sir Francis Burdett, a second Countess of Guilford, and a third Marchioness of Bute. On becoming acquainted with Miss Mellon, and inducing her to leave the stage to avoid perpetual insults, Mr. Coutts bought for her a small villa of Sir W. Vane Tempest, called Holly Lodge, at the foot of Highgate Hill, for which he gave 25,000/. His banking-house strong rooms alone cost 10,000/. building. The first deposit in the enlarged house was the diamond aigrette that the Grand Signor had placed in Sir Horatio Nelson's hat. Mr. Coutts, though very charitable, was precise and exact. On one occasion, there being a deficit of 2s. li)d. in the day's accounts, the clerks were detained for hours, or, as I believe, all night. One of Coutts's clerks, who took the western walk, was discovered to be missing with 17,000/.* Rewards were offered, and the town placarded, but all in vain. The next day, however, the note-case arrived from Southampton. The clerk's story was, that on his way through Piccadilly, being seized with a stupor, he had got into a coach in order to secure the money. He had remained insensible the whole journey, and had awoke at Southampton. Mr. Coutts gave him a handsome sum from his private purse, but dismissed him.

Coutts's Bank stands on nearly the centre of the site of the New Exchange. When the Adelphi was built in Durham Gardens, Mr. Coutts purchased a vista to prevent his view being interrupted, stipulating that the new street leading to the entrance should face this opening; and on this space, up to the level of the Strand, he built his strong rooms. Some years after, wishing to enlarge them, he erected over the office a counting-house and set of offices, extending from William-street to Robert-street, and threw a stone bridge over William-street to connect the front and back premises.

Mr. Coutts, a few years before his death, married Harriet Mellon, who, after his death, became the wife of the Duke of St. Albans, a descendant of Nell Gwynn, that light-hearted wanton, whom nobody could hate. "Miss Mellon," says Leigh Hunt, "was arch and agreeable on the stage; she had no genius; but then she had fine eyes and a goodhumoured mouth." The same gay writer describes her when young as bustling about at sea-ports, selling tickets for her benefit-night; but then, says the kindly apologist for everybody, she had been left with a mother to support."

I wish that old building was still the headquarters. And I suspect that you will hear more about Angela Burdett-Coutts in this space in the future.

In 1969 Coutt's Bank, with origins in the late 17th century, was bought by National Westminster Bank (NatWest), and in 2000, NatWest was purchased by the Royal Bank of Scotland. Coutt's is now the wealth division of the conglomerate, engaged in private banking, with branches and offices worldwide. To become their client, I assume you would have to rob your piggy bank. And a few others as well.

The Strand, c. 1824

Speaking of Bridget Jones . . . .

2011-12-31T03:49:00.002-05:00

Happy New Year! We can't think of anything more fitting than watching this video as we ring in the New Year. If you'll be spending the New Year with friends, it'll get you into the party spirit and if you'll be celebrating alone, it will give you hope - things eventually turned out well for Bridget . . . didn't they? Watch the video here.

Prepare for The Year of Dickens

2011-12-30T04:00:00.014-05:00

2012 brings the 200th Birthday of Charles Dickens (1812-1870), the man who shaped our perception of Victorian England in his thousands of pages of delicious stories -- not to mention his reporting and essays.

Dickens in 1858

Charles Dickens was born in 1812. His somewhat feckless parents caused him to have an alternately comfortable and difficult life as a child, including a stint working in a London blacking factory, where he experienced first hand the travails of the poor working class he so vividly portrayed in his stories.

Santa favored me with a copy of Claire Tomalin's biography of Dickens, a book that was on many "best" lists for 2011 and which received many glowing reviews. Tomalin had already done considerable work on Dickens and his secret life. Her book, Invisible Woman, was published in 1991, telling of his 13-year affair with Ellen Ternan at the end of his life. He had previously married the boss's daughter (or one of his bosses), Catherine Hogarth, whose father was the editor of the Evening Chronicle, for which Dickens wrote. They had ten children, but grew apart.

Claire Tomalin is an excellent biographer. She has published the life stories of many famous writers, such as Katherine Mansfield (1989), Pepys (2003), and Thomas Hardy (2007). She has written about others, as well, particularly - from my bookshelf -- Mrs. Jordan's Profession (1994) -- the story of London actress Dorothea Jordan (1761-1816) and her long affair with Prince William, Duke of Clarence (1765-1837), with whom Dora had ten children. He later succeeded his brother to become William IV, King of England 1830-1837.

Claire Tomalin

I suppose it will come as no surprise to occasional readers of this blog to learn that my favorite biography of Tomalin's is her Jane Austen: A Life, an excellent study of the artist whose work is the source-point for all my interests in the long 18th Century, the Regency, the Georgians, the Victorians, and all things English/British.

But I digress... you will find no shortage of biographies and studies of the work of Charles Dickens in the upcoming months. Plays, movies, television programs -- he will be everywhere. We have just had, in many US cities and elsewhere, the traditional holiday season performances of A Christmas Carol, which one cannot see too many times, or so it seems to me.

Ebenezer Scrooge is only one of the hundreds of characters Dickens create which stay in our memories forever. Who could ever forget the Artful Dodger? Or Miss Havisham? Or Mr. Micawber or Uriah Heep? You can name dozens more, no doubt.

David Copperfield illustration

David Copperfield is said to be somewhat biographical.

Dickens began publishing stories in 1833 when he was just 21 years old. He generally published his stories in magazines, in serial form, meaning that every few pages, there is a suspenseful moment, designed to bring the reader back next month to buy the next installment. This method enhances the page-turner quality of all of his novels. He was immensely popular in his day, engaging in many public readings around Britain as well as during two trips to the U.S.

Charles Dickens by Ary Scheffer, 1855; NPG, London

So in the next 12 months (and beyond), be self-indulgent, and read some of the long and enjoyable works of Charles Dickens. It is a pleasure you owe yourself!

The Queen's Diamond Jubilee in 2012

2011-12-28T04:00:00.004-05:00

Great Britain and the world will celebrate Queen Elizabeth's sixty-year reign in 2012. We can't wait!

The logo was chosen from 35,000 entries in a contest sponsored by the BBC. Katherine Dewar, of Chester, age ten, is the talented artist.

The Queen's Silver Jubilee was celebrated in 1977.

The Golden Jubilee, marking Queen Elizabeth's fifty years on the throne, was celebrated in 2002. One of the fun events was a grand concert in the Garden of Buckingham Palace -- broadcast all over the world. I imagine we will see some of the same kind of spectacles next summer around the official weekend on June, 2012.

Queen Victoria celebrated her Diamond Jubilee in 1897. Above is her official picture from the celebration. She became Queen of England on the death of her uncle, William IV, in 1837, when she was age 18. She died in January, 1901, after a reign of 63 years and 7 months, longest ever for an English monarch.

Victoria's 1897 Diamond Jubilee was marked by nationwide celebrations, a gathering of the world's reigning monarchs and local festivities, setting the precedents for 2012.

Above is a commemorative plate, just one of many souvenirs available. For the very finest quality items, I suggest contacting the Royal collection gift shop here. Think of how valuable it might become, though a quick google search for commemoratives from Victoria's Jubilee turns up several examples for less than $200, as below.

If you aren't in a collecting mood so soon after Christmas, you could spend hours surfing the sites devoted to the 2012 jubilee.

Here is the official site, soon to be updated. Above is the jubilee barge, to be used on the Thames during the official weekend of celebrations, beginning June 3, 2012. For more info on the barge, go to the BBC News.

Longer runs will be held for the exhibitions at royal residences. More Information is here. Special exhibitions will be on view at Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Holyroodhouse, as well as special showings of the Royal Collections's drawings by Leonardo da Vinci in England, Scotland and Northern Ireland. Below, Head of Leda, from the Royal Collection, by Leonardo da Vinci, c. 1505-06, probably acquired by Charles II.

Lest we forget what the Diamond Jubilee is celebrating, here are a few pictures of the Queen during her reign.

above, 1952; below, 1977.

Above, Andy Warhol's take on her Majesty. Below, Elizabeth II's "Golden Jubilee" in 2002.

Here are some more recent photos of the the Queen in 2011:

My choice for the prettiest hat ever is the pink one, worn last June at Ascot. May she reign on (and keep the hatmakers happy)!! Stay tuned for more Diamond Jubilee stories.

Boxing Day

2011-12-26T04:01:00.032-05:00

From The book of Christmas: descriptive of the customs, ceremonies, traditions ... By Thomas Kibble Hervey (1845)

This day—which, in our calendar, is still dedicated to the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen (for John the Baptist perished in the same cause, before the consummation of the old law, and the full introduction of the Christian dispensation),—is more popularly known by the title of Boxing-day; and its importance, amongst the Christmas festivities, is derived from the practice whence that title comes.

We have already mentioned that the custom of bestowing gifts, at seasons of joyous commemoration, has been a form of thankfulness at most periods;—and that it may have been directly borrowed, by the Christian worshippers, from the Polytheists of Rome, along with those other modes of celebration which descended to the Christmas festival, from that source,—introduced, however, amongst our own observances, under scripture sanctions, drawn both from the Old and New Testaments. The particular form of that practice, whose donations are known by the title of Christmas-boxes (and which appear to differ from New-year's gifts in this,—that the former, passing from the rich to the poor, and from the master to his dependants, are not reciprocal in their distribution,—whereas the latter are those gifts, for the mutual expression of good-will and congratulation, which are exchanged between friends and acquaintances), was, perhaps, originally one of the observances of Christmas-day, and made a portion of its charities. The multiplied business of that festival, however, probably caused it to be postponed till the day following,—and thereby placed the Christmas-boxes under the patronage of St. Stephen.

The title itself has been derived, by some, from the box which was kept on board of every vessel that sailed upon a distant voyage, for the reception of donations to the priest; who, in return, was expected to offer masses for the safety of the expedition, to the particular saint having charge of the ship—and, above all, of the box. This box was not to be opened till the return of the vessel; and we can conceive that, in cases where the mariners had had a perilous time of it, this casket would be found to enclose a tolerable offering. Probably the state of the box might be as good an evidence as the log-book, of the character of the voyage which had been achieved. The mass was, at that time, called Christmass;—and the boxes kept to pay for it were, of course, called Christmass-boxes. The poor, amongst those who had an interest in the fate of these ships,—or of those who sailed in them,—were in the habit of begging money from the rich, that they might contribute to the mass boxes; and hence the title which has descended to our day:—giving to the anniversary of St. Stephen's martyrdom the title of Christmas-boxing day— and, by corruption, its present popular one of Boxing-day. A relic of these ancient boxes yet exists, in the earthen or wooden box, with a slit in it, which still bears the same name; and is carried, by servants and children, for the purpose of gathering money, at this season—being broken only when the period of collection is supposed to be over.

Most of our readers know that it was the practice, not many years ago (and in some places is so still), for families to keep lists of the servants of tradesmen and others, who were considered to have a claim upon them for a Christmas-box at this time. The practice,—besides opening a door to great extortion,—is one, in every way, of considerable annoyance,—and is on the decline. There is, however,—as they who are exposed to it know,—some danger in setting it at defiance, where it is yet in force. One of the most amusing circumstances, arising out of this determination to evade the annoyances of Boxing-day, is related by Sandys. A person in trade had imprudently given directions that he should be denied, on this day, to all applicants for money; and amongst those who presented themselves at his door, on this errand, was, unfortunately, a rather importunate creditor. In the height of his indignation, at being somewhat uncourteously repulsed, he immediately consulted his lawyer; and, having done that, we need scarcely relate the catastrophe. It follows, as a matter of course. A docket was struck against the unsuspecting victim of Christmas-boxophobia.

Boxing-day, however, is still a great day, in London. Upon this anniversary, every street resounds with the clang of hall-door knockers. Rap follows rap, in rapid succession,—the harsh and discordant tones of iron mingling with those of rich and sonorous brass, and giving a degenerate imitation of the brazen clangor of the trumpet which formed the summons to the gate, in days of old,—and which, together with the martial music of the drum, appears to have been adopted, at a later period, by the Christmasboxers, on St. Stephen's-day. Pepys, in his diary (1668), records his having been "called up by drums and trumpets;—these things and boxes," he adds, "have cost me much money, this Christmas, and will do more." Which passage seems to have been in the memory of our facetious publisher, when he made the following entry in his journal of last year,—from whence we have taken the liberty of transcribing it.—"Called out," says Spooner (1834), "by the parish beadle, dustmen, and charity-boys. The postman, street-sweepers, chimney-sweepers, lamp-lighters, and waits, will all be sure to wait upon me. These fellows have cost me much money this Christmas,—and will do more, the next."

There is an amusing account, given by a writer of the querulous class, of a boxing-day, in London, a century ago. "By the time I was up," says he, "my servants could do nothing but run to the door. Inquiring the meaning, I was answered, the people were come for their Christmas-box; this was logic to me; but I found at last that, because I had laid out a great deal of ready-money with my brewer, baker, and other tradesmen, they kindly thought it my duty to present their servants with some money, for the favor of having their goods. This provoked me a little; but being told it was the 'custom,' I complied. These were followed by the watch, beadles, dustmen, and an innumerable tribe; but what vexed me the most was the clerk, who has an extraordinary place, and makes as good an appearance as most tradesmen in the parish; to see him come a-boxing, alias a-begging, I thought was intolerable: however I found it was 'the cus.torn too,' so I gave him half-a-crown; as I was likewise obliged to do the bellman, for breaking my rest for many nights together."

The manner in which the beadle approaches his "good masters and mistresses," for a Christmas-box,—particularly in the villages near the British metropolis,—is, as we have before said, by the presentation of a copy of printed verses, ornamented with wood engravings. These broadsides are usually termed "Bellman's verses;" and we quite agree with Mr. Leigh Hunt in his opinion, that "good bellman's verses will not do at all. There have been," he remarks, "some such things of late ' most tolerable and not to be endured.' We have seen them witty,—which is a great mistake. Warton and Cowper unthinkingly set the way." "The very absurdity of the bellman's verses is only pleasant, nay, only bearable, when we suppose them written by some actual doggrel-poet, in good faith. Mere mediocrity hardly allows us to give our Christmas-box, or to believe it now-a-days in earnest; and the smartness of your cleverest worldly-wise men is felt to be wholly out of place. No, no! give us the good old decrepit bellman's verses, hobbling as their bringer, and taking themselves for something respectable, like his cocked-hat,—or give us none at all."

Upon the bellman's verses which were last year circulated by the beadles of Putney, Chiswick, and other parishes on the west side of London, it was recorded, that they were "first printed in the year 1735;"—and our curiosity induced us to inquire of the printer the number annually consumed. "We used, sir," said he, "not many years ago, to print ten thousand copies, and even more; but now I suppose we don't print above three thousand." Whether the trade of this particular dealer in bellman's verses has passed into other hands,—or whether the encouragement given to the circulation of these broadsides has declined,—the statement of an individual will not of course enable us to determine. But we are inclined to think that,—like other old Christmas customs, —the popularity of bellman's verses is passing away; and that, before many years have elapsed, penny magazines and unstamped newspapers will have completely superseded these relics of the rude, but sincere, piety of our ancestors.

The claims of dustmen to be remembered, upon " Boxing day," were formerly urged, without literary pretensions; but now, "the march of intellect" has rendered it necessary for them to issue their addresses in print. One of these, which lies before us, represents that "the United Association of Dustmen and Scavengers, of the Parish of , have the honor to pay their humble duty and respects to the good [Master or Mistress] of this house, and to solicit a Christmas mark of approbation of their unwearied exertions, which they flatter themselves conduce so eminently to the comfort and salubrity of the greatest metropolitan city of civilized Europe." Here, however, is another,—in which the spirit of St. Stephen's day is embittered by the rivalries of business; and the harmony of those two respectable bodies, the Scavengers and Dustmen, appears to have been disturbed. The dustmen, it will be seen, repudiate the scavengers,—and appeal to St. Stephen, on a separate interest.

"TO THE WORTHY INHABITANTS OF THE SOUTHAMPTON ESTATE.

"Ladies and Gentlemen,—At this season, when you are pleased to give to laboring men, employed in collecting your dust, a donation, called Christmas-box, advantage of which is often taken by persons assuming the name of Dustmen, obtaining, under false pretences, your bounty, we humbly submit to your consideration, to prevent such imposition, to bestow no gift on any not producing a brass figure of the following description—A Scotch Fifer, french horn, &c., between his legs.—James Dee and Jerry Cane.— Southampton Paving Act—on the bell.—Contractor—Thomas Salisbury. "No connexion with scavengers—Please not to return this bill to any one."

The principal Wait, also, leaves a notice of a more imposing description,—stating a regular appointment to the office, by warrant, and admission,—with all the ancient forms of the City and Liberty of Westminster; and bears a silver-badge and chain, with the arms of that city. We cannot dismiss the various modes of collecting Christmasboxes, without a few words upon the pieces of writing carried about by parish boys; and which, once, presented the only evidence that the schoolmaster was abroad. It appears formerly tohave been the practice, at this season, to hang up in our churches, the work of the most skilful penman in the parish, after it had been generally exhibited; the subject of which was the life of some saint, or other religious legend. Pepys thus mentions the custom :—" 26 December, 1665. Saw some fine writing work and flourishing of Mr. Hore, with one that I knew long ago, an acquaintance of Mr. Tomson's at Westminster, that is this man's clerk. It is the story of the several Archbishops of Canterbury, engrossed on vellum, to hang up in Canterbury cathedral, in tables, in lieu of the old ones, which are almost worn out."

To this usage—which was no doubt of monkish origin,—we are inclined to refer the specimens of caligraphy, upon gaudily ornamented sheets of paper, brought round, on St. Stephen's-day, by parish boys and charity school children, and displayed for admiration and reward. The walls of school-rooms, and of the houses of the children's parents, are afterwards decorated with these "Christmas pieces,"—in the same manner as were anciently the walls of churches.

The Wellington Connection: Christmas

2011-12-25T03:45:00.055-05:00

Kristine here, sharing my ornaments with you . . .

We have lots of bears . . . .

Some birds, calling and otherwise . . .

a few souveniers of our travels

But the majority are British themed baubles, including several Big Bens

several soldiers . . . .

a few Royal personages

some London icons . . . . .

and some thrones for good measure . . . .

So where, you rightly ask, is the Wellington Connection? Did you think we'd forget the Duke at Christmas!?

Not a bit of it! The Duke's halls have been decked, and lit, as well.

Merry Christmas!

Raising a Toast to Christmas

2011-12-24T04:00:00.002-05:00

The grocery store Trader Joe's recomends egg nog for Christmas in its Holiday Guide 2011. We all love the rich mix, whether or not it is laced with whiskey or rum. The Guide notes that there are some things among our food and drink traditions that are closely associated with the holidays every year. One version of eggnog's origin is from the English area of East Anglia where a noggin is a small mug. There are other explanations, but this one is probably as good as any. Yum.

The picture above accompanies Rachel Ray's recipe(s) for EggNog. Try one of them here. Ray suggests rum to add a touch of cheer to the traditional egg, cream and nutmeg ingredients.

I remember my parrents serving Tom and Jerrys many years ago at the holidays. I thought they meant the cat and mouse cartoon characters, but the drink was invented by Pierce Egan (1772-1849), creator of the regency era ne-er-do-wells Tom and Jerry, whose Life in London ran to many editions in the 19th century. The cat and mouse were named after them too. Egan was a journalist and sportswriter, and his silly characters had many adventures. Above, they manage to enter Almack's, where they probably would not find any alcohol, unless it was smuggled in by a regency rake. Though there are many variations, a Tom and Jerry resembles eggnog.

For a recipe, click this link.

As long as I was looking into Christmas cheer, I looked up wassail. I've sung about going wassailing for years in the well-known carol -- and never stopped to wonder what in the world it meant.

Here is an recipe based on fruit juices and without alcohol.

Appropriately, there are many recipes for wassail or wassail punch, though all seem to have a apple cider base. According to several sources, wassailing was a group activity involving singing and saluting the health of the apple trees to encourage a good harvest in the future. Wouldn't this just be a good excuse for a party? Wassailing could be done at harvest time in the fall, particularly in the south of England where the apple orchards prevail, and at Christmas time, though the roots of the custom seem to go back to pre-Christian days in England. For ale-based and wine-laced recipes and more, click here.

Another popular warm drink for the holidays is the Hot Toddy, usually made with a lemon-juice base. As in all of the above, alcohol is optional. I note than many examples carry a cinnamon stick as a stir. To repeat, yum. Some sources say the Scottish version is usually made with whisky and the English version with strong black tea. For recipes, click here.

There are many more Christmas drinks, both traditional and cutting-edge. Think hot buttered rum, mulled wine and/or cider, hot chocolate, or Irish Coffee. Or try Bishop, a warm wine-based drink mixed by Scrooge in Charles Dickens' Christmas Carol.

So here's to you, a virtual cup of good cheer for the holidays!!

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

2011-12-22T03:24:00.000-05:00

In this sequel, Sherlock Holmes and his sidekick Dr. Watson join forces to outwit and bring down their fiercest adversary, Professor Moriarty, played by Jared Harris, below.

Stephen Fry is Mycroft Holmes, elder brother of Sherlock.

And then, of course, there are Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law -

This cast alone should be more than enough encouragement to see the film, but should you be the odd man out and need even more incentive, Wikipedia offers this plot synopsis: "Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey, Jr.) has always been the smartest man in the room…until now. There is a new criminal mastermind at large—Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris)—and not only is he Holmes’ intellectual equal, but his capacity for evil, coupled with a complete lack of conscience, may actually give him an advantage over the renowned detective. When the Crown Prince of Austria is found dead, the evidence, as construed by Inspector Lestrade (Eddie Marsan), points to suicide. But Sherlock Holmes deduces that the prince has been the victim of murder—a murder that is only one piece of a larger and much more portentous puzzle, designed by one Professor Moriarty. Mixing business with pleasure, Holmes tracks the clues to an underground gentlemen’s club, where he and his brother, Mycroft Holmes (Stephen Fry) are toasting Dr. Watson (Jude Law) on his last night of bachelorhood. It is there that Holmes encounters Sim (Noomi Rapace), a Gypsy fortune teller, who sees more than she is telling and whose unwitting involvement in the prince’s murder makes her the killer’s next target. Holmes barely manages to save her life and, in return, she reluctantly agrees to help him. The investigation becomes ever more dangerous as it leads Holmes, Watson and Sim across the continent, from England to France to Germany and finally to Switzerland. But the cunning Moriarty is always one step ahead as he spins a web of death and destruction—all part of a greater plan that, if he succeeds, will change the course of history." Yowza!

Watch the trailer here.

The Origins of the Christmas Card

2011-12-20T04:18:00.014-05:00

From Christmas Cards & Their Chief Designers By Gleeson White (1894)

The origin of the Christmas card is, fortunately for its future historians, not lost in the mists of antiquitv, that popular hiding place for all sorts of origins; but as clearly fixed as Archbishop Usher's date of Creation- B.c. 4004, October 26, 4-30 p.m.,—with more trustworthy evidence to support it. In 1846, Sir Henry Cole (then plain Mr) suggested the idea of a specially designed form of greeting to send to friends at Christmas. Mr J. C. Hor.«!ey, R.A., acting on the hint, produced a design of a trellis of rustic-work, in the Germanesque style, divided into a centre and two side panels. In the panels are figures representing two of the acts of charity, "feeding the hungry" and "clothing the naked;" in the centre is a picture of a merry family party, including three generations, grandparents to grandchildren, quaffing draughts of wine.

It was evident that some such individual, whether called buyer or commercial traveller, comes between the manufacturer and the retailer in almost every instance. Not only has this personage to reckon with the taste of shop-keepers, which varies from the best to the worst, with a tendency to the latter, but he has also his own standard to defend. Hence he sells most readily not only those goods the average retail trader is most likely to choose for himself, but a great many others which, since they approve themselves to the vendor, he can recommend with sincerity.

It is strange that this needle's eye, through which so much Applied Art has to pass ere it reaches the public, is not more often recognised as the chief obstacle to its progress. The public should not be held responsible for declining to purchase goods which never came under its eyes; the manufacturer should not be held blameworthy for the poor level of the Art he offers, when, possibly, he has tried and tried in vain to induce his travellers and the trade buyers to support his efforts to produce good designs.

Although 1846 has been so far accepted as the undisputed date of the first card, just before going to press, Mr Jonathan King, the owner of the largest collection, has called my attention to a paragraph in a journal'of some standing, where a Mr Thomas Shorrock, of Leith, is said to be the real inventor of the Christmas card, seeing that a year or two before the above date he issued one, with a laughing face, and the motto "A Gude New Year to Ye." Whether this be the card which is elsewhere said to have been engraved on a copper- plate by a workman, Daniel Aikman, in 1840 or 1841 and published with a Scotch motto, I am unable to prove. Should either of these statements be accurate, although one might, without special pleading, claim that a New Year secular greeting is not quite the same as one marking a religious festival, it would be best to give later inventors equal credit, and assume, what would be probably correct, that neither knew of the doings of the others. So, too, the statement that engravers' apprentices of Northumberland or Yorkshire (the stories differ, and one questions if such a class of artists exists in either place in sufficient numbers to found a custom), are in the habit of sending specimens of their own work to friends at Christmas, and have done so for a long period, may or may not be true, but is hardly likely to have been the source whence the card was derived. Equally difficult is it to obtain any details of Messrs Goodall's cards in 1862 (or 1864, authorities vary,) which were probably the first issued to the ordinary trade. Despite a former sentence crediting Messrs Goodall with the honour of being the first publishers of Christmas cards, (always excepting the Sir Henry Cole card of 1846,) and, notwithstanding the fact that several of their cards, issued in 1864 and 1865, from designs by C. H. Bennett, are reproduced here, it is possible that other candidates might put forward reasonable claims. It seems probable that ornamented note paper and envelopes appeared just before the cards, that the designs in relief, identical with those on the stationery named, were either simultaneously or very shortly after stamped in the centre of a card, which had its edges coloured or embossed. Certain it is that T. Sulman was very early in the field with relief-decorated paper and cards, and with lithographed designs. Leighton, of Fleet Street, and Mansell, of Red Lion Square, are also amongst the first, while R. Canton, (who started Valentine and Birthday card production in 1840,) and Dean & Sons issued many of their publications with special Christmas mottoes. The innovation of stamping reliefs in two or more colours is dated to 1858. The introduction of foreign "chromo-lithograph pictures," to replace those hitherto coloured by hand, or by stencil, is traced to Elliott, of Bucklesbury, in 1850, and to Scheffer and Scheiper, (I have but the phonetic spelling of these names,) in 1851. This item in the preparation of "made-up" Birthday Cards and Valentines had hitherto been very rudely prepared by colouring plain embossed relief with a brush, or stencilling lithographs, afterwards embossed and cut out.

An improvement in these devices is traced to a man whose professional occupation was to colour designs upon linen bands for the Irish trade. These cut out devices were prepared at a cost of 4d. per 1,000, the hands earning about 15s. a week, until Germany sent over more cheaply produced imitations at one-sixteenth of the cost. Thierry, of Fleet Street, known as the father of the Christmas card trade, was, doubtless, the first to introduce the elaborately embossed reliefs which afterwards came over in cart loads. Then they cost 8os. per 100 sheets, now their price has fallen to is. the 100 for large quantities. When one remembers that at first—and for many years after- a large majority of the cards, (which, however little they interest us here, helped to spread the fashion), were made up from foreign chromo-lithographs, even by firms of the high standing of Marcus Ward, we find that this importation of foreign embossed relief takes its place as an important commercial factor in the rise of the industry.

A Greenaway Christmas Card

With Messrs Marcus Ward & Co., who started the production of Christmas cards as early as 1867, coincidentally with the opening of their London house, however, we come to a very different class of manufacturers. Here is a house, one of the earliest in production, with a record that reaches the highest level of decorative excellence ever touched by the Christmas card. This firm for awhile monopolised the whole of the better-class trade. Beginning with the use of German " chromos," usually mounted on card with lithographed borders in gold and colours, of home manufacture, they soon issued reproductions of original designs by artists of repute, and gained a position where they stood without rivals. It was, I believe, owing to the *acute perception of one of the partners of this firm, Mr. William H. Ward, that Miss Kate Greenaway was "discovered" as a designer. At the earliest "Black and White" Exhibition at the Dudley Gallery Mr. Ward's attention was drawn to Miss Greenaway's work; and recognising that her special talent was in the direction of costume figures and dainty colours, he induced her to design for the firm.

It is this characteristic which must be reckoned to the honour of Marcus Ward's cards; not because they employed celebrated artists more freely than other firms—capable designers indeed were commissioned, but their list of well-known painters will not compare in mere numbers for a moment with those of several of their near rivals—but because they saw that an architectural, not a pictorial, aim was the correct one. To talk of architecture in connection with so ephemeral an object as a Christmas card may sound absurd, but, nevertheless, I think all students of decoration must admit that its treatment should be more nearly allied to the surface decoration of buildings than to transcripts of nature, which are, in theory, attempts to imitate the out-look from a window of the building. This latter, usually held to be the aim of the pictorial artist, cannot be employed without degradation upon mechanically-produced reproductions in colour; but the artificial convention — the idea of decorative as distinguished from pictorial art— wherever you find it for stained glass, mosaic, enamel, inlay or colour printing, has another purpose to fulfil, which is more admirably achieved when the limitations of the material are duly observed.

On The Shelf: Annie Groves

2011-12-18T01:27:00.002-05:00

Recently, I was given that which every avid reader covets - the gift of discovering a new author. Annie Groves, who also writes as Penny Jordan. Her writing style is reminiscent of Catherine Cookson and Groves also writes family sagas, most of them being set around World War II London, rather than 19th century Tyne and Wear. Her latest series begins with London Belles, a tale of four very different young women thrown together by war. Finding freedom and independence – as well as love, passion and heartbreak – for the very first time, a unique bond is formed as the hostilities take their toll on Britain.

United by chance, bound together in times of need When tragedy strikes, Olive is forced to seek lodgers. Three girls come knocking at her door, each in need of a roof over their heads. Sally has left Liverpool to work as a nurse in London and when she arrives she is a shell of her former self. Where once stood a vivacious, sociable girl, now stands one plagued by homesickness and a betrayal that is devastatingly fresh in her mind. Dulcie is living the high life in the West End, a world away from her home in Stepney. Working at Selfridges gives her access to the most fashionable clothes and makeup, but at home she is the black sheep of the family; always second to her sister. So she decides it's time to make a bid for freedom. Agnes grew up in an orphanage, having been left on the steps as a new-born baby. But with war looming, and the orphanage relocating to the country, she must now seek out a job and lodgings. But with change comes exciting new opportunities, worlds away from the life she's known… As the women prepare for war, all of their futures hang in the balance. Soon their lives will change irrevocably and the home that binds the London Belles is no longer the sanctuary they once sought.

Imagine my delight when, upon finishing London Belles, I rushed to the Barnes and Noble site only to find that there's already a sequel, Home for Christmas, which picks up the tale exactly where it left off.

There's nothing new or shocking in Groves's storytelling, but that's a good thing. She uses a gentle voice to relay the wants, desires and motivations of four 1940's girls, each of whom has their own distinct personality. Like Cookson, Groves charms the reader with good, old fashioned storytelling that left me wanting more. Best of all, Groves has a couple of previous WWII series in her backlist, so I'll have a title of hers in my TBR pile for a while to come. You can visit Annie Groves' website here.

Jane Austen's 236th Birthday December 16, 2011

2011-12-16T04:00:00.107-05:00

On Saturday, December 10, the Wisconsin region of JASNA celebrated Jane Austen's birthday with a gala luncheon.

Marylee Richmond and Susan Flaherty at the registration table.

Suan and Diane Judd made individual souvenirs for all participants, a series of stunning silhouettes (as below). What an acomplishment!

We dined on individual Beef Wellingtons or Quiches, followed by delicious desserts not to be believed. (Remember, desserts is stressed spelled backwards.)

Below, Sara Bowen and Jane Glaser have a chat before the luncheon.

Above, our Chicago colleague, William Phillips, gave the annual toast to our favorite author's birthday.
Below, Jeff Nigro, Regional Coordinator for the neighboring Chicago group, as he presented his talk on "Austen and the Beauty of Place."

Jane Austen did not write a great many long descriptions of locations in her fiction. Sometimes, Nigro said, when characters spoke rhapsodically, their fawning images illustrated the superficial nature of the speaker, such as Mr. Collins talking of Rosings (Lady Catherine’s estate) or Mrs. Elton in Emma with her inflated images of Maple Grove.

Above, Chawton House and Church, by an unknown artist

Austen favors descriptions, such as that Edward gives in Sense & Sensibility, of a landscape that unites beauty and utility. An excellent example would be the view of Wivenhoe Park by John Constable, 1816, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C., below.

Among the best known of Austen’s landscape descriptions comes from Emma: “It was a sweet view -- sweet to the eye and the mind. English verdure, English culture, English comfort, seen under a sun bright, without being oppressive.”

Nigro went on to compare such images from Austen to sets and locations used in various movie and television series based on the novels, sometimes finding the film version less than accurate.

Instead of trying to define a universal standard of beauty, he concluded, Austen raises queries about what constitutes true beauty; more than just a nice view, she finds perfection is based on a complex web of emotions that we bring to our personal images -- of home. Thank you, Jeff, for your stimulating talk!

Above, Sue Zimmerman and Victoria Hinshaw

Liz Cooper with Beverly Levin

The Wisconsin Region invites you to its website, here.

The renowned calendar prepared by Liz Philosophos Cooper and Kim Wilson has even more entries on the activities of Jane Austen, her family, and her characters to fill almost every day. This year's pictures are all on color, some of everyone's favorites from the Brock Brothers. To order, contact Liz Cooper at

liz.p.cooper@gmail.com

or click Merchandise on the website.

Below, a sample page (October 2012)

Christmas Turkeys

2011-12-15T03:53:00.001-05:00

From The Book of Christmas: Descriptive of the customs, ceremonies, traditions ... By Thomas Kibble Hervey (1845)

Amongst the signs of the time that are conspicuous upon the roads, the traveller whose journeyings bring him towards those which lead into the metropolis, will be struck by the droves of cattle that are making their painful way up to the great mart, for this great festival. But a still more striking, though less noisy, Christmas symptom forms a very amusing object, to him who leaves London by such of its highways as lead eastward. Many a time have we seen a Norfolk coach, with its hampers piled on the roof and swung from beneath the body, and its birds depending, by every possible contrivance, from every part from which a bird could be made to hang. Nay, we believe it is not unusual with the proprietors, at this season, to refuse inside passengers of the human species, in favor of these oriental gentry, who "paybetter;" and, on such occasions, of course, they set at defiance the restriction which limits them to carrying "four insides." Within and without, the coaches are crammed with the bird of Turkey;—and a gentleman town-ward bound, who presented himself at a Norwich coach-office, at such a time, to inquire the "fare to London," was pertly answered by the book-keeper, "Turkeys." Our readers will acquit us of exaggeration, when we tell them that Mr. Hone, in his Every Day Book, quotes, from an historical account of Norwich, an authentic statement of the amount of turkeys which were transmitted from that city to London, between a Saturday morning and the night of Sunday, in the December of 1793;—which statement gives the number as one thousand seven hundred, the weight as nine tons, two cwt., and two lbs., and the value as £680. It is added that, in the two following days, these were followed by half as many more. We are unable to furnish the present statistics of the matter; but, in forty years which have elapsed since that time, the demand, and, of course, the supply must have greatly increased; and it is probable that the coach proprietors find it convenient to put extra carriages on the road, for these occasions.

Norfolk must be a noisy county. There must be a " pretty considerable deal" of gabble, towards the month of November, in that English Turkistan. But what a silence must have fallen upon its farm-yards, since Christmas has come round! Turkeys are indisputably born to be killed. That is an axiom. It is the end of their training,—as it ought to be (and, in one sense, certainly is) of their desires. And, such being the destiny of this bird, it may probably be an object of ambition with a respectable turkey, to fulfil its fate, at the period of this high festival. Certain it is that, at no other time, can it attain to such dignities as belong to the turkey who smokes on the well stored table of a Christmas dinner, the most honored dish of all the feast.

A Day in the Life of a Queen

2011-12-14T03:14:00.001-05:00

Creevey Papers 1838

December 15th.—Went on Wednesday to a Council at Windsor, and after the Council was invited to stay that night; rode with the Queen, and after riding Melbourne came to me and said Her Majesty wished me to stay the next day also. This was very gracious and very considerate, because it was done for the express purpose of showing that she was not displeased at my not staying when asked on a former occasion, and as she can have no object whatever in being civil to me, it was a proof of her good-nature and thoughtfulness about other people's little vanities, even those of the most insignificant. Accordingly I remained till Friday morning, when I went with the rest of her suite to see the hounds throw off, which she herself saw for the first time.

The Court is certainly not gay, but it is perhaps impossible that any Court should be gay where there is no social equality; where some ceremony, and a continual air of deference and respect must be observed, there can be no ease, and without ease there can be no real pleasure. The Queen is natural, good-humoured, and cheerful, but still she is Queen, and by her must the social habits and the tone of conversation be regulated, and for this she is too young and inexperienced. She sits at a large round table, her guests around it, and Melbourne always in a chair beside her, where two mortal hours are consumed in such conversation as can be found, which appears to be, and really is, very up-hill work. This, however, is the only bad part of the whole; the rest of the day is passed without the slightest constraint, trouble, or annoyance to anybody; each person is at liberty to employ himself or herself as best pleases them, though very little is done in common, and in this respect Windsor is totally unlike any other place. There is none of the sociability which makes the agreeableness of an English country house; there is no room in which the guests assemble, sit, lounge, and talk as they please and when they please; there is a billiard table, but in such a remote corner of the Castle that it might as well be in the town of Windsor; and there is a library well stocked with books, but hardly accessible, imperfectly warmed, and only tenanted by the librarian: it is a mere library, too, unfurnished, and offering none of the comforts and luxuries of a habitable room.

There are two breakfast rooms, one for the ladies and the guests, and the other for the equerries, but when the meal is over everybody disperses, and nothing but another meal reunites the company, so that, in fact, there is no society whatever, little trouble, little etiquette, but very little resource or amusement. The life which the Queen leads is this: she gets up soon after eight o'clock, breakfasts in her own room, and is employed the whole morning in transacting business; she reads all the despatches, and has every matter of interest and importance in every department laid before her. At eleven or twelve Melbourne comes to her and stays an hour, more or less, according to the business he may have to transact At two she rides with a large suite (and she likes to have it numerous); Melbourne always rides on her left hand, and the equerry in waiting generally on her right; she rides for two hours along the road, and the greater part of the time at a full gallop; after riding she amuses herself for the rest of the afternoon with music and singing, playing, romping with children, if there are any in the Castle (and she is so fond of them that she generally contrives to have some there), or in any other way she fancies.

The hour of dinner is nominally half-past seven o'clock, soon after which time the guests assemble, but she seldom appears till near eight. The lord in waiting comes into the drawing-room and instructs each gentleman which lady he is to take in to dinner. When the guests are all assembled the Queen comes in, preceded by the gentlemen of her household, and followed by the Duchess of Kent and all her ladies; she speaks to each lady, bows to the men, and goes immediately into the diningroom. She generally takes the arm of the man of the highest rank, but on this occasion she went with Mr. Stephenson, the American Minister (though he has no rank), which was very wisely done. Melbourne invariably sits on her left, no matter who may be there; she remains at table the usual time, but does not suffer the men to sit long after her, and we were summoned to coffee in less than a quarter of an hour. In the drawing-room she never sits down till the men make their appearance. Coffee is served to them in the adjoining room, and then they go into the drawing-room, when she goes round and says a few words to each, of the most trivial nature, all however very civil and cordial in manner and expression.

When this little ceremony is over the Duchess of Kent's whist table is arranged, and then the round table is marshalled, Melbourne invariably sitting on the left hand of the Queen and remaining there without moving till the evening is at an end. At about half-past eleven she goes to bed, or whenever the Duchess has played her usual number of rubbers, and the band have performed all the pieces on their list for the night. This is the whole history of her day: she orders and regulates every detail herself, she knows where everybody is lodged in the Castle, settles about the riding or driving, and enters into every particular with minute attention. But while she personally gives her orders to her various attendants, and does everything that is civil to all the inmates of the Castle, she really has nothing to do with anybody but Melbourne, and with him she passes (if not in tete-a-tete yet in intimate communication) more hours than any two people, in any relation of life, perhaps ever do pass together besides (1) He is at her side for at least six hours every day— an hour in the morning, two on horseback, one at dinner, and two in the evening. This monopoly is certainly not judicious; it is not altogether consistent with social usage, and it leads to an infraction of those rules of etiquette which it is better to observe with regularity at Court. But it is more peculiarly inexpedient with reference to her own future enjoyment, for if Melbourne should be compelled to resign, her privation will be the more bitter on account of the exclusiveness of her intimacy with him. Accordingly, her terror when any danger menaces the Government, her nervous apprehension at any appearance of change, affect her health, and upon one occasion during the last session she actually fretted herself into an illness at the notion of their going out. It must be owned that her feelings are not unnatural, any more than those which Melbourne entertains towards her. His manner to her is perfect, always respectful, and never presuming upon the extraordinary distinction he enjoys; hers to him is simple and natural, indicative of the confidence she reposes in him, and of her lively taste for his society, but not marked by any unbecoming familiarity.

Interesting as his position is, and flattered, gratified, and touched as he must be by the confiding devotion with which she places herself in his hands, it is still marvellous that he should be able to overcome the force of habit so completely as to endure the life he leads. Month after month he remains at the Castle, submitting to this daily routine: of all men he appeared to be the last to be broken in to the trammels of a Court, and never was such a revolution seen in anybody's occupations and habits. Instead of indolently sprawling in all the attitudes of luxurious ease, he is always sitting bolt upright; his free and easy language interlarded with 'damns' is carefully guarded and regulated with the strictest propriety, and he has exchanged the good talk of Holland House for the trivial, laboured, and wearisome inanities of the Royal circle.

1 The Duke of Wellington says that Melbourne is quite right to go and stay at the Castle as much he does, and that it is very fit he should instruct the young Queen in the business of government, but he disapproves of his being always at her side, even contrary to the rules of etiquette; for ae a Prime Minister has no precedence, he ought not to be placed in the post of honour to the exclusion of those of higher rank than himself.

JASNA Birthday Tea in Chicago

2011-12-12T05:00:00.002-05:00

The Greater Chicago Chapter of JASNA celebrated Jane Austen's 236th birthday with toasts to Jane and tea at the Fortnightly on Saturday, December 3, 2011. The Club was festive with Christmas lights and set a perfect atmosphere for our afternoon.

The speaker for the program was Mona Scheuermann, a professor at Oakton Community College in Illinois, whose topic was "Jane Austen and Making Do." Of particular interest to her was the morality of the choice of plays chosen to be performed by the young people in the novel Mansfield Park. The choice of "Lover's Vows," an adaptation by Elizabeth Inchbald of a German play by von Koetzbue, defined each character and gave us a strong insight into their views.

Jane Austen, according to Scheuermann, did not believe that this play, with its theme of redemption after a illicit affair, was a proper vehicle for the young, unmarried participants in the Mansfield Park dramatic effort. Fanny Price, of course, refused to participate, and Edmund also balked, placing them in the forefront of good behavior, always a value to Jane Austen.

The Club's lovely silver urns for our tea. Our favorite winter beverage was accompanied by an assortment of savory sandwiches and sweets, as shown.

Above, the required watercress and cucumber sandwiches. Once we are all served and reassembled, it was time for the annual birthday toast to our Jane. Leading us in extolling our favorite author was Karen Doornebos, author of the new novel, Definitely Not, Mr. Darcy. Look for more information on Karen here.

After we raised our champagne glasses to the memory of Austen, Karen posed with JASNA GCR regional coordinator Jeff Nigro.

Another debut author showing off her new work was Elizabeth Lenckos of the University of Chicago, who is a contributor to the volume entitled Wooing Mr. Wickham, a collection of stories inspired by Jane Austen's heroes and villains, from the Jane Austen Short Story Award 2011 entries, sponsored by the Chawton House Library. A total of 20 authors are included in a wide variety of formats and approaches.

Elizabeth's story is based on the wartime experiences of her family in Berlin at the end of World War II. It is a poignant story that shows just how deeply the love of Jane Austen can dwell within our hearts, even at the worst moments of existence.

Above, Elizabeth Lenckos speaks to the JASNA AGM in Ft. Worth, TX, in October 2011.

So now you have two books to add to your list for Santa this year. And I have another Jane Austen Birthday Celebration to attend soon. Hurrah!! Regardless of various kerfluffles about murder charges and newly-discovered portraits of somebody or other, our essential love of and admiration of Jane Austen remains indiminished.

My Father's 100th Birthday

2011-12-10T05:00:00.006-05:00

Victoria, here, wishing Happy Birthday to Gerald Malcolm Biggers (1911-1979), my esteemed father, long gone to his Great Reward. He would have been 100 years old today.

Gerald M. "Jerry" Biggers, 1964

I have occasionally tried to trace the stories of our ancestors and, as you will see, I have had some successes. But I have been unable to link the earliest Biggers I can claim --in Maysville, Kentucky, in the early decades of the 19th century -- to his father or grandfathers who came originally from England and/or Scotland before 1776. There were several men with the surname Biggers (or something very similar) in the Virginia Militia before the American Revolution, but I lack the link to the Maysville Biggers, specifically to Harvey Poindexter Biggers, born April 3, 1819 in Kentucky and died August 3, 1879 in Albion, IL.

Gerald and Leone Lagerstrom Biggers, June, 1935

However, my cousin Shera Biggers Thompson (1939-2009) and I did find our connections to another branch of the family, the wife of our great grandfather John Biggers, Ellen Metcalfe. Her grandfather, Edward Barnard Metcalfe, was a map maker who traveled with the British Army in the Peninsular war, up to and including the Battle of Waterloo. After the war, he worked for the Ordnance Survey and taught at the Royal Engineers College. About a dozen of his exquisitely drawn maps are in the UK's National Archives at Kew, where Shera and I were privileged to see them a few years ago. The second son, Arthur, came to the US to farm in the 1820's. I assume Arthur was named in honor of Arthur Wellesley, first Duke of Wellington, for whom Edward Barnard Metcalfe had made most of his maps.

I have lots more research to do if I am to complete the picture of this family -- other names that figure into my ancestry are Poindexter (familiar to many Virignians), Heck, and Stanley (supposedly shirt-tail relatives of the earls of Derby, but more likely just some poor Yorkshiremen who took the name of the local bigwigs).

Brothers Gerald and Hayward Biggers, c. 1916

One of my father's grandfathers was George Washington Stanley, who was the sheriff of Edwards County, IL, before the turn of the 19th to the 20th century. Below, the Albion, IL, county courthouse of Edwards County and the location of this tiny county in southern Illinois, due east of St Louis on the Wabash River, the eastern boundary of Illinois with Indiana.

I think the greatest hero to my dad's thinking was Winston Churchill, the man who saved civilization, in his opinion, with the assistance of the forces of the Commonwealth and the U.S. for sure. I still have several volumes of Churchill's series The Second World War that belonged to my father.

Jerry Biggers, Sr., my father, had a successful business career as a Chevrolet Dealer in Elgin, IL. He was, in my estimation, a perfect father. He was devoted to his wife, to me and to my brother, Jerry Jr. He loved our spouses and our children. He was a member of many civic improvement organizations in Elgin and later in his life, in Key Colony Beach, FL, where he lived in retirement. As his friends and colleagues knew, if you wanted a job done, Jerry would accomplish it.

Though he had a great interest in all things British, he and Mother traveled to Europe only once, visiting England, Scotland and Sweden, where my mother's parents came from. I particularly remember him talking about his visit to the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey as well as the town of Biggar in Scotland, from which he believed some of his ancestors had emigrated.

Biggar, Scotland

My father was a great devotee of classical music and loved to listen to his recordings in the evening with his bourbon and a detective novel. We always wondered of the author Earl Derr Biggers, creator of Charlie Chan, was related to us somehow. Probably his favorite writer was Erle Stanley Gardner, creator of Perry Mason, and perhaps another distant - really distant -- Stanley relation.

To my darling daddy, Happy 100th Birthday!

Speaking of Bridget Jones . . . .

2011-12-08T03:45:00.001-05:00

Okay, holiday season is upon us and by now you've most likely already watched Bridget Jones's Diary a few times (haven't you?) It's time now to move on to Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. Go on, dust off your dvd and start watching, but before you do, watch the movie trailer here first.

National Trust Holiday Lets

2011-12-06T03:27:00.002-05:00

If one can't be home for Christmas, the next best place is an historic property let through the National Trust. At the National Trust Holiday Cottages website, you'll find a unique collection of over 370 properties in outstanding locations in England, Wales and Northern Ireland, available for short breaks, weekends away and holiday lets. Here are just a few:

On the sandy coast between Barmouth and Harlech in Wales, Egryn is a stunning Grade II listed medieval hall house dating from 1510, with 17th century alterations and a mid 19th-century front which looks across farmland to Cardigan Bay. At the heart of the house is the medieval hall with exposed, partially-aisled roof structure and a grand 17th-century fireplace. It has been faithfully restored by the National Trust using traditional building techniques: admire the skill and beauty of this work, providing a rare opportunity to stay in a Welsh hall house of this calibre. It is furnished in keeping with each period of its development. Commissioned by the National Trust, a replica of the original Egryn table dating from the early 1700's has been made from local wind blown oak and the Trust's Ganllywd Estate, and now has pride of place in the grand medieval dining room. Egryn is a working farm, through which there is a public footpath which leads past a profusion of Scheduled Ancient Monuments and stretches from the seashore to the uplands of the Rhinogydd Range. It has a wealth of archaeological and historic interest. There is a large private garden with nature trees, shrubbery and patio area. With its grand medieval hall sitting and dining rooms, Victorian parlour, skilled craftsmanship, beautiful furnishings and large private garden, Egryn is the perfect choice for that special occasion, family holidays and get togethers.

An exceptionally pretty cottage lying in the idyllic surroundings of the walled garden on the Florence Court estate, just eight miles from the town of Enniskillen. Rose Cottage is furnished to a high standard with views over the peaceful garden.

Godolphin House - Cornwall -This hugely atmospheric house sits in beautiful gardens and in great walking country. It is also only a short drive to lovely sandy beaches on both the north and south Cornish coasts, so makes a fabulous base for a great seaside holiday with a wonderful house to retreat to, away from the hustle and bustle of the resorts on busy days. The main entrance is via an imposing pillared portico running along the front of the house. There is a rear private garden area specifically for holiday cottage guests, but the main gardens are also available for use when not open to the public.

Housesteads - Northumberland - This Victorian farmhouse, built in the 19th century, was home to the Thompson's who farmed the area and also played a role as custodians of the Wall. The sitting room in the cottage was used by John Clayton when he was working on the excavation of Housesteads Fort. Clayton was the Town Clerk in Newcastle and was involved in the development of the city in the 1800's. He is renowned for his interest in preserving Hadrian's Wall and is credited with being the first person in the world to use his own wealth to buy sites of archaelogical interest. He bought land along the wall to stop the quarrying and removal of stones being taken to be used elsewhere. John Clayton was involved in excavations through out most of his life and was said to be still excavating up to the age of 94. The cottage is located just 100yrds from the ruins of Housesteads Fort and has outstanding views towards the North Pennines and Hadrian's Wall.

Ho, ho, ho, indeed.